
Class J^5_lilX 

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Number 



The Faithless Favorite. 

A Mixed Tragedy. 



DEDICATED 

To the memory of things beautiful: — 
The ghosts of dead dreams and failures- 
Things that have never come, 
And things that have grown in vain. 



The Faithless Favorite 

A Mixed Tragedy 



BY 

EPWIN SAUTER 



To which is appended a collection 

of detached trifles 

entitled 



SCHEDIASM 



Numbered First Edition 



SAINT I<OUIS 

Published by the Author 

At the Sign of the lyEECH 

1331 N. Seventh Street 

1905 



T5 3 



A 



OCT 80 l^m 

COPY &>, 



/3 7 



Oopyriglit, 1905, by 
EDWIN SAUTER. 






'^ 



CONTENTS, 



Page. 

The Faithless Favorite 3 

Schediasm 223 



ADVERTISEMENT. 



In the following drama the author adheres 
merely to the fundamental fact of the old chron- 
iclers' stories of Athelwold and Elfrida, allow- 
ing caprice and fancy to build up the rest. 

The names of historical personages are 
taken from Hume's England. 

The author is indebted to his indlilgent 
friend — the play's first reader — Dr. L. G. 
McKellops, for assistance in preparing the vol- 
ume for the press. 



THE FAITHLESS FAVORITE. 



DRAMATIS PERSONAE. 

EDGAR, King of England. 
ATHELSTAN, a powerful noble. 

KENRIC, ) ,^ . 7 -^ ^ n7^ -^ 

„__„^..r T^ y thanes, — rival suitors to Elfrtda. 
REDWALD, ^ 



'■] 



DUNSTAN, Archdisliop of Canterbury. 

ALFRED, friend to Athelwold. 

OLGAR, Earl of Devonshire, — father of Elfrida. 

OFF A, a wicked monk. 

HAKO, a robber, — brother to Rowena. 

INA, steward to Olgar. 

INULF, a minstrel. 

ATHELWOLD, son to Athelstan and favorite of the 
King. 

ELFRIDA, a Saxon beauty, afterwards Queen. 

COUNTESS OF DEVONSHIRE. 

ROWENA, clandestinely married to Athelwold. 

ELFWINE, maid to Elfrida. 

OSBURGA, a reputed witch, living in a cave. 

RODA, her daughter. 

Prologue, kings, thanes, outlaws, soldiers, officers, 
monks, players, pages, an old Saxon, three Ro- 
manies, keepers, servants, villagers, peasants, 
priest, old sentry, and attendants. 



SCENE,— Saxon England. 
3 



ACT I. 



Prologue. The Faithless Favorite. 

PROLOGUE. 

Enter PROLOGUE in a fooVs costume, with 
cap and hells. 
PROL. 

Hear me, good people. What is dark is not light, 
— what is plain, not ambiguous. I am an ex- 
plainer, — the world's interpreter of parables 
and dark sayings. Now mark: — 

A certain king, well loved by monkish chroni- 
clers, with a sweet-tooth for a "fat leg of ewB- 
mutton," hearing on all sides great praises of 
a piece of rare excellence in Devonshire, be- 
comes infected with a deep and mighty passion 
and appetite for it; and, occasion soon after 
offering, dispatches his favorite thither to 
make purchase of the ewe, provided reports 
lied not respecting its comeliness and succu- 
lence. 

The favorite, viewing the piece, lusteth mightily 
like his master; and encouraged by an evil 
shepherd that accompanied him — who, oppor- 
tunely or inopportunely, gave occasion for the 
visit — he makes the purchase, indeed, but alas! 
in his own name, not his master's. 

This injurious deed, an act of treachery to the 
king, and furthermore, as will be shortly seen, 

" in violation of a solemn league and covenant 
he, the favorite, had recently entered into clan- 
destinely to eat no mutton save in his own 
cote, directly led to many calamities and disas- 



The Faithless Favoeite. Prologue. 

trous consequences, and eventually to his own 
death at the king's instigation. 

But, what ho! — the disastrous consequences and 
cognate circumstances are vividly set forth 
and portrayed in the free-lance, connection- 
scorning and farraginous manner of the Eliz- 
abethian school in the play next-ensuing: — a 
drama consisting of five acts and thirty odd 
scenes, whereof the first, or impetus to the 
motif, sheweth the violent admiration, pas- 
sion and deadly rivalry of the Saxon youth re- 
specting the Devonshire mutton ; and the thir- 
ty-fifth and last (amen! ), the deplorable end of 
the favorite and others concerned at a merry 
feast where the King unexpectedly appears and 
claims the piece in contention. 

Alas! 

Now, Mr. Curtain-puller. [.Exit PROLOGUE. 



Act I. 

ACT I, SCENE I.— A forest adjoining ATHEL- 
STAN'S csLStle.-— Horns and liunting music, hal- 
looing and shouting^ break upon the ear — first us 
from a little distance, tut rapidly growing louder 
and coming nearer. Soon a confused crowd of 
Saxon noMes in hunting costume, armed with 
knives and spears, dash across the scene. Pres- 
ently enter ATHBLSTAN, limping. 

ATH. 

Halloo, halloo, halloo! — 

Swift as the hawk they rush the frighted quarry, 

But 'tis a scurvy trick of graceless youth 

To leave eld i' the lurch and in distress, (seats 
himself) 

Ay, ay;-— 

Halloo, 'loo, 'loo and welcome, 

Ye merry, lusty, lithe and shin- whole thanes! — 

Wise age respects its hamstrings. 

As for me, farewell boar-sticking! (throws away 
his spear) 

Joints wrenched, crowns cracked, flesh bramble- 
torn — 

Those pleasures of the chase — and sundry oth- 
ers — 

Have thrilled these stagnant veins some three- 
score years, — 

No more of them! 

Man smiles away a thousand aches at play. 

But dub it work — one bruise will quell his spirit. 

Zounds! I have seen the day — who comes? 

By Thor! (rising) I hear the ring of steel. 



The Faithless Favorite. Act I, 

Enter REDWALD and KENRIC, fighting. 
RED. 

Thy blood! — thy heart's blood! 

KEN. 

Fight, fight, tongue-trumpet! 

[Beats down REDWALD'S defense and runs 
Mm through the arm — ^REDWALD falls. 
ATH. 

Hold! 
KEN. (raising his spear) 
Thou dlest! 

ATH. {interposing) 

Hold, Kenric, — hold, I charge thee! 
Slay him not. 

KEN. (struggling) 
Away! Away! 

Unhand me, thou old thane! — His life — or — 
(menacing ATH.) thine! 

ATH. (persisting) 
Fierce youth, forbear! 

[KENRIC flings ATH. aside and rushes on 
RlSjyWALD— Enter KING EDGAR and party, 
— they seize KENRIC and disarm him. 

KING EDGAR. 

Ha, nobles — speak! — what bodes this savage 

fray? 
Bind up that bleeding arm! (REDWALD'S arm 

is "bandaged) 
Thou too, hoary Athelstan? 
ATH. (peevishly) 

Nay, blame me not, O King! 

Sooth, I was wounded in the chase and sought 

10 



Scene I. The Faithless Favorite. 

A friendly brook to lave my maimed limbs, — 
Here scarce arrived, metbought to rest awhile, 
When suddenly there burst upon the scene 
Yon furious pair, {pointing) engaged in mortal 

combat; — 
The startled copse loud-ringing with the clash 
Of desperate lunge and deadly counterstroke: — 
And when to curb their violence I essayed 
Athelstan was like a feather i' the whirlpool: — 
This told, thou sharest all my knowledge. 
KING EDGAR, {sinks on a fallen oak and sighs) 
Thanes, thanes! 

Life's a short, troubled voyage on an ocean — 
That vast, ill-charted waste whose shores are 

Death; 
And wildly tossed, — oft overwhelmed 
And midway wrecked, — 
On, on! relentless fate the rocking bark 
Fast drives, — while heedless wretches, drunk or 

sleeping. 
Or like the child at play, 
Infatuate with some caprice of the moment, 
Reck not of perils nor th' inevitable end; 
But with their little souls absorbed in little 

things 
Unto the eleventh hour. 
Bowed o'er some game they dream, — till, all 

aghast. 
Dire thunders on their ears the cry of port! 
And then pell-mell they bundle off despairing, 
Ere well the voyage seems to them begun. 
Ah me! 
How soon it ends — the longest life and best! — 

11 



The Faithless Favorite. Act I, 

With all its petty pangs, disports and projects; 
How soon in blank oblivion swallowed up, 
Despite carved records, monuments and memo- 
rials! 
Our port's illimitable oblivion, — 
Ay, Time's long surges break upon a shore 
Athwart whose gloom no beacon beams or cheers : 
Oh, madness then, to fill the fleeting hour 
With idle brawls! — My malison on strife. 

KEN. {sullenly) 
Thou ruler of the isle of Albion, 
Peace-loving kings won not the sea-girt realm, 
And strife, I rede thee, is the fining-pot 
'Twixt man and man, nation and nation, 
Distinguishing true metal from base dross. 

ATH. (sotto) 
Character, boy, — that's the gold in the coin: 
An inch of character's worth a yard of wit. 

KING EDGAR, (harshly to KENRIC) 
What, thou churl! 

A gruff voice sings i' the pitch of truth, 
But there be forks to bring it in tune. 
Look you. Lord Fining-pot! 

ATH. (aside to KEN.) 
Now dov/n, rash fool! 

The lion shows his fangs, but prompt submission 
Soon pacifies him. 

KEN. (kneeling) 
Pardon, liege lord! 
Intemperate anger wags a privileged tongue. 

KING EDGAR (motioning him up) 
Yea, — if the cause be righteous: — 
Is thine so? 

12 



Scene I. The Faithless Favobite. 

RED. (advancing excitedly) 
No, no! — hear me — believe him not, just King! 

KEN. (mockingly) 
Hear him? — thou'lt hear the madman rave, just 
King! 

KING EDGAR (sternly) 
Peace, Kenric. 

RED. 

Hear me and render justice, righteous Edgar! 

'Twas in these woods I lost a jeweled ring, 

More dear, O King, than my heart's blood to me: 

Who found it? — Kenric — 

He, he, he! (pointing) 

Deny it not! — that guilty flush betrays thee. 

Prince, when I taxed him with the gem's posses- 
sion. 

Demanding its return. 

He, my rejected, disappointed rival. 

Knowing full well whose bless'd hand gave it me. 

And the tradition that who gained this prize 

Should wed the maid, — most harshly scorned me, 

Denying restitution just and equitable. 

Then to the arbitrament of arms, though loth, 

I swift appealed to win again mine own — 

The precious gift of beautiful Elfrida. 
SEVERAL YOUNG NOBLES IN CHORUS. 

Elfrida! Elfrida! 
RED. (triumphantly) 

Ay! mark me, the Lady Elfrida, 

Heiress of Devonshire. 
KEN. 

Thou simple fellow! — I have not thy bauble. 

13 



The Faithless Favorite. Act I, 

RED. 
An oath, an oath! Avouch it with an oath! 

KING EDGAR (presenting his sword) 
Swear on this hilt thy lips speak sooth, Earl 
Kenric. 

KEN. (kissing it) 
I swear it. 

KING EDGAR (to RED.) 
What ask'st thou more? 

[As RED. is about to reply advance ATH. Ttos- 
tily. ' 

ATH. 

Odso, odso! 

A woman 'tis ye quarrel o'er? — Oh, egregious! 
Lord, here's the acme of mischievous vanity! 
The plague its thousands — yea — but in all ages — 
And at all ages — ^Woman slays her ten thous- 
ands: — 
Hero, king, poet, plough-hoy, sage and scholar — 
None escape her, messieurs, — none, none, none! 
And what is woman? — Bah! 
A golden-winged butterfly, indeed, 
Flutt'ring in the air before the lover's eyes. 
Dazzled with longing, 
But in the hands of disillusioned husbands 
An ugly and oft venomous little grub: — 
And let them speak who know the change when 
caught. 

CHORUS OF YOUNG NOBLES. 
Fy, fy! — hear him! 

CHORUS OF OLD ONES. 
Ha, ha, ha! 

14 



Scene I. The Faithless Favorite. 

ATH. 
By your leave! (sings) 

Once the maid weds the man let him sing if he 
can, 
When a year they've sped together, 
That a railing wife's not the tane of life — 
And the devil send him foul weather. 
KING EDGAR. 
Tut, tut, biting Athelstan! 
Nature's promptings be wise counselors, " 
And scathless fall gibes and jingles on deaf 

ears: — 
Are we not all lovers in England? 

YOUNG NOBLES. 
All, all; — huzza! 

ATH. 
Nay, 'tis indeed our thriving industry, — 
Strange lands know that. But God help ye! — 
If ye see not the truth of wise words, 
I leave your correction to th* rod of experience. 

KING EDGAR {drawing figures with his sword) 
But WHO is Elfrida? 

SEVERAL VOICES. 

A goddess! A goddess! 
KEN. 

Oh, a being fair whom all devoutly worship 

In Beauty's idolatrous temple, — where fond 
hearts 

Are altars, and the groans of noble youth 

Thrice-welcome incense! 
ATH. (aside) 

And mooning madness high-priest, faith! 

15 



The Faithless Favorite. Act I, 

RED. 

How tamely, gods! ye do discuss Elfrida, 

The paragon of loveliness, 

Of grace, of virtue, and the pride 

And glory of her sex! 

Where she appeareth, like the brilliant sun. 

Her brightness all irradiates. 

And gloom and darkness from the face of care 

Fall like a mantle: — 

And when she speaks — nightingales, be mute! 

For your most dulcet notes are dissonance 

To the soft syllables which, from her lips. 

Trill like a siren's melody. [Exit. 

ATH. 

A pretty canticle that, of exaggeration! 

Not unsung in pristine times. 

When the first ogling maid taugnt the prime fool 

That dulcet and pernicious practice — loving. 

Love's a drought to wit and rants in stock- 
phrases. 
A NOBLE. 

Redwald takes unceremonious leave, my liege. 

KING EDGAR (waking from a revery) 
Oh! he is gone? 

Alas! he is distraught and must be humored: 
Then let him hence, — sick fancy buys him leave. 

ATH. (impatiently) 

Declining twilight warns us hence too, King,^ — 

If thou wilt pardon an old man's interruption. 
KING EDGAR (rising) 

We'll to thy castle straightway. 

Kenric, impetuous spirits dance on a precipice, 

16 



Scene I. The Faithless Favorite. 

And for slight cause plunge headlong into crime; 
For thine own weal, and condign punishment, 
Thou Shalt abroad : 

One year thou hast to wend on other shores. 
But welcome back when time hath healed this 
feud. 

KEN. {indifterently) 
The King's will is the subject's law perforce. 

KING EDGAR. 

Blow, trumpets, blow! 

Blow tnat the absent huntsmen come apace 

With hounds, with steeds, and eke the noble 

quarry. 
Sound, sound! (flourish of horns) 
Naught answers save the distant mocking echo. 
And we'll not wait man's pleasure. On, thanes, 

on! 

ATH. 

Nay, will ye go? Kenric, thine arm; — 
Rogue, had I not been disabled! [Exeunt. 

Enter ATHELWOLD hastily. 

ATHBLW. 

Perish all laggards! {some drops of rain fall) 

Haste too late is all in vain: 
Though they trudge and stride amain 
Laggards house behind the rain. 

Surely the horns issued from this self-same 

copse. 
Though the King's vanished like a jack-o-lantern. 
What's here? {picks up an object) Old forest, 

bring'st me treasure? — 

17 



The Faithless Favorite. Act I, 

The flashing gewgaw of some coxcomb hunter! — 
I'll pocket it. (hunting music) Hark! again. 

[Exit. 



ACT I, SCENE II.— The banquet-hall in ATHBL- 
STAN'S castle.— KING EDGAR, ATHELSTAN, 
ATHELWOLD, DUNSTAN, etc., discovered at 
the t>oard. — Trophies of the chase here and there. 
Festal music. 

ATH. {to ATTEND.) 
Have the jugglers come? 

ATTEND. 
No, my lord. 

ATH. 
Hang the dogs! Where tarry they? 

ATTEND. 
Truly, I know not, my lord. Old Inulf, the glee- 
man that was once a French monk, hath just run 
in with a company of players, and tells of robbers 
in the woods. Belike the jugglers encountered 
them and met with misadventure. 

ATH. 

Robbers in the woods? — Ay! in the woods, the 

town, and in the castle. But of that anon. Call 

this Inulf. [Exit. ATTEND. 

HAKO enters and seats himself unobserved 

amongst the nobles. 

KING EDGAR. 
Marry, Athelstan! 
A frowning host points the guest towards the 

door: 
Why that troubled visage? 

18 



Scene II. The Faithless Favorite. 

ATH. 

'Tis naught, noble Prince, — naught, naught. 

Re-enter ATTEND, with INULF. 
Sirrah harper! — Chant us a war-ballad or a song 
of the chase, (aside) 'Twill save us from miscel- 
laneous caterwauling,, at all events.* 

INULF. 
Blithely, your lordship. 

[Tunes his harp. 

KING EDGAR. 
Hast none of the new things in thy scrip, glee- 
man? 

INULF. 
Gracious sovereign, we are e'en versed in a nov- 
elty of mine own dealing with the slaying of the 
werewolf. It is in advance of the times, my lord, 
I make bold to say. [To ATH. 

ATH. 
A play? 

INULF. 
In miniature, my lord — better than a monkish 
diversion, truly. 

ATH. 
Come, come! — prepare apace, then. 

INULF. 
Gentles all, consider yourselves on a highway 
near a village at dusk, and the wolf a monstrous 
big animal; — or aught superstition paints him. 

[Exit. 

*It was the custom at all Saxon feasts to pass the 
harp from guest to guest, exacting a song from each par- 
ticipant. Caedmon's chagrin over his inability to sustain 
his part at a banquet, and the subsequent marvelous hap- 
penings, are well known to all students of literary biog- 
raphy. 

19 



The Faithless Favorite. Act I, 

ATH. 
Fill the cups, rogues! — fill the cups. 

[ATTENDANTS fetch drinking-cups made out 
of skulls and fill them* 

DUNSTAN (rising) 
Lords! ye have quaffed the King's health — 
Drink ye this to his master! 

KING EDGAR. 
Zounds! Dunstan, what call you this pledge? 

DUNSTAN. 
'Tis called the pledge of skulls, O King! 
And the toast is — to the woem. 

[Raises his cup and recites: — 

dunstan's toast. 

Fill a cup to the King, 

Forget not thy host, 
But let the feast bring 

Ne triumph or boast. 
Deep, deep in the earth 

Thy cold lord is crawling, 

[Holds up a worm. 
And gay is his mirth — 

Sith blithesome his calling. 
Hoi he feasts on the heart 

Of humanity's kings, 



♦The use of drinking cups made out of human skulls, 
especially of their enemies, was common enough among 
our savage ancestors. The story of Alboin, King of the 
Lombards, and Rosamond, daughter of the conquered Cuni- 
mund, will probably recur to the reader's memory ; — 
forced to pledge Alboin in the skull of her own father, she 
avenged the atrocity by stabbing the King to the heart. 

20 



Scene II, The Faithless Favorite. 

And Ms revels are part 

And the end of all things. 
His hosts are the dead, 

His reign — 'tis for aye, — 
And all come to his spread, — 

But none fare aivay. 

[DUNSTAN empties his gol)let, — the rest fol- 
lowing suit, noisily and boisterously jesting 
the while. 

KING EDGAR (flinging his sTcull on the board) 
Ho, ho, ho! 

A mortal truth but a ghastly pledge. 
Dark prelate. 

ATH. 
Faugh! — the night's chilly. 

DUNSTAN (re-seating himself) 
Lo! the players. 

[Here the Interlude. — An arras or curtain may 
be thrown, back, disclosing suitable scenery. 
Enter INULF and a young SHEPHERDESS, 
running. 
8HEP, 
He comes, he comes! — the werewolf* comes! — 

woe, woe! 
Oh, save me, Christ! — Oh. Jesu — Mary — save me! 
Fm lost, lost, lost! — No further can I flee — 



•The werewolf appears in the folk-lore of many coun- 
tries. A story of a prodigiously big beast, that none but 
the King himself could slay, is related in some apocry- 
phal histories of King Edgar. His activity in extirpat- 
ing wolves from England is cited by all historians. It 
is, perhaps, needless to state that the mythical or legen- 
dary feature is ignored in this interlude. 

21 



The Faithless Favorite. Act I, 

My Umhs sink under me — I faint — I fall — 

(drops) 
Oh, — oh, — oh, — oh! 

Gape, kindly earth! — gape wide and hide my 
corse. 
INULF. 
He rushes on with mighty hounds — horrible! 
piteous sight! — a mangled, bloody babe 
Hangs from his gleaming fangs! 
His fiery eyes strike terror to my soul — 
He foams — he snarls in rage like rumbling thun- 
der! 
Mine eyes grow dim, — I can no longer see. 
[Falls prone and covers his head with his 
Tnantle. 
KING EDGAR. 

Excellent! Excellent! — A most tragic caitiff. 
ATH. 
Ay, by the fiends! — he knows the coward's part: 
He hath rehearsed it in real life, most likely. 
KING EDGAR. 
What!— already? 

Enter a PLAYER impersonating the KING, 
ivith the werewolf's head on his shoulders. 

KING (prodding INULF with his foot) 
What craven bird is this that hides its head. 
But leaves its heart exposed in witless dread? 

INULF (starting up) 

That beast! — that beast! — Majestic lord, beware. 

KING. 

Unscathed young hinds may gambol in his lair. 
[Flings the head at INULF's feet. 

22 



Scene II. The Faithless Favorite. 

INULF. 

God! — is the fell, devouring monster slain? 
KING. 

Behold his poll! — and hide thine own again. 

[Kicking the caput. 
INULF. 

Joy! Joy! — The sheepcote's safe and hamlet dear. 
KING. 

Ay! — dance and shout — thou late wast blanched 
with fear. 
INULF. 

Unarmed the deast surprised me on my way. 
KING. 

Sooth! — gentle harper, hadst no weapon, say? 
INULF. 

Naught save two hands and this, my gilded harp. 
KING. 

Pooh, pooh! — exchange that for a falchion sharp. 

[A shout. 

Enter a crowd of VILLAGERS, SHEPHERDS 
and SHEPHERDESSES, dragging in the 
hody of the wolf, which they kick lustily, 
dancing and shouting round the KING. — 
INULF, seizing his harp, sings: — 

SONG. 

When the hold king and the wild thane 
Follow the chase i' wood or plain. 
Let prowling wolf and shaggy bear, 
And tusked, fierce and bristling boar. 
Crouch low and tremble in the lair! — 
Crouch low as Britons crouched of yore 

23 



The Faithless Favoeite. Act 7, 

When, conquered, from the wailing field 
The routed hosts for refuge fled, 
And, long in caverns* deep concealed, 
Shunned conflict with the Saxon dread. — 

IHe varies the measure. 
High heats the heart in the wild thane 
When he 'bestrides a foeman slain, — 
Or, first to spear the panting hoar. 
Drinks the red, quick-welling gore! — 
But answer, swains! — who leads the van, 
Or he the game wild heast or man? 

CHORUS. 

Foremost in chase, foremost in hattle. 
Where spears flash and hucklers rattle 
The Saxon monarch takes his stand. 
And earns hy might right to command: — 
Conforming to the ancient plan, 
Which crowned the hero of the clan, — 
'Twas thus monarchic rule began. 

[The guests take up this chorus, clashing their 
cups against the dishes by way of accompani- 
ment. 

THE SHEPHERDESS. 
Have done with thy lame numbers! — Let me 
finish it. [Seizing the harp she sings: — 

SONG. 

To the music of the trembling string 
Chant the true praises of the King: — 



•The fastnesses in the mountains of Cornwall and 
Wales were the final refuge of many of the Britons, 
beaten in almost all their compaigns with the Anglo- 
Saxons. 

24 



Scene II. The Faithless Favorite. 

Ten thousand thanes at his command 
Wage bloody war with ruthless hand — 
Ay! but he, renowned for peace* 
Bade the trumpefs clangor cease, 
Bade the mourner's voice be stilled. 
Bade the fruitful fields be tilled, 
Where the croaking raven, flitting, 
And the vulture, grimly sitting', 
Gorge their carrion maw no more: — 
For the page of England's story, 
Teeming with the warrior's glory, 
Is turned down for one less gory, — 
And the troublous days are o'er. 

ANOTHER (taking the harp) 

And ah! since so decreed above. 
Triumphant valor bends to love, 
And in the sparkling ee 
Of golden-tressed virginity — 

KING. 
Break off, break off! God wot, we ken its spell! 
Good villeins all! — play catch — and so farewell. 

[Scatters largess and exit attended by INULF. 
After lively scrambling, struggling and bick- 
ering, exeunt omnes shouting as before: — 
which ends the Interlude. 

ATH. 

O admirable King! 

There's for thy seasonable interruption. 

[Throws a jeweled brooch in a tray. 



*King Edgar (959-975) was called the "Peaceful," his 
reign being signalized by no great wars, not even with the 
Danes. 



The Faithless Favorite. Act I, 

KING EDGAR. 

There's for the harper. [Throws a bracelet. 

ATHELW. 
There too. — That play hath verisimilitude 
Where the characters show discretion. 

[Contributes the ring he found in the woods. 
Other nobles follow suit, and soon the tray is 
full of glittering jewels. 

KING EDGAR {calling) 
Inulf! Inulf! — come. 
Re-enter INULF. 

ATH. {pointing) 

There's for your pains; — but hark thou, 
The brooch to him that played king. 

HAKO {springs forward) 
And the whole tray to Hako! 

[Seizes it, bowls over INULF and exit. All rise 
in confusion. 

CHORUS. 
A robber! A robber! 

ATH. 
Ho, sentinels! — ho, archers! Seize him, seize 
him! 

[Rushes out, followed by the company. — DUN- 
STAN keeps his seat, laughing and playing 
with the worm. 

A CRY FROM WITHIN. 
He has escaped! He has escaped! [Scene closes. 



26 



Scene III. The Faithless Favorite. 

ACT I, SCENE III. — ^London. — A room in the royal 
palace. — KING EDGAR present, with several trib- 
utary kings, their trains, courtiers, etc. 

KING EDGAR. 

Cousin of Mercia, say, — or ill or well. 
How fares it with the Boroughs?* 

FIRST KING. 

Peace reigns, law triumphs, and the half-shorn 
Dane 

Follows the plow, forgetful of the Raven.f 
KING EDGAR. 

'Tis well. 
SECOND KING. 

Royal and puissant Edgar! — grant a boon. 
KING EDGAR. 

Ask it. 
SEC. KING. 

Come dwell with me in Albin. 
KING EDGAR. 

In Albin? 

SEC. KING. 
Ay! — in Albin — 

There the maids are fresh and fair, and little 
wont 

To leave young, doughty kings content to roam 



*The "Five Boroughs," strongholds of the Danes, were 
Derby, Lincoln, Leicester, Stamford and Nottingham. 

fT/ie "Raven" — the standard of the Danes in King 
Alfred's time, — viewed with superstitious reverence by the 
fierce harriers of the North. It was fabled to possess 
miraculous properties, always bringing victory when car- 
ried in battle, because worked by the hands of the daugh- 
ters of King Lodbrog. 

27 



The Faithless Favorite. Act I, 

Unspoused and lorn:* — a state which some p — d 

lords 
Cross a wide waste of waters to escape from — 
Not naming other advantages of the cure. 
KING EDGAR. 
Go to, go to! 

SEC. KING. 
Nay, beshrew me, King! 

I pity thee: — thy ill- warmed couch cries shame 
On all the lagging dames of merry England. 

KING EDGAR. 

Gramercy, Kenneth! — gramercy. (aside) Ill- 
warmed, 
Forsooth! 

SEC. KING. 
Ah, well! — th' inevitable rules us: — 
Belike the English soil, malign and sterile. 
Breeds naught that kicks its way beneath a 

smock 
Save holy nuns, and unhipped spinsterhood. 
KING EDGAR. 

Tush, man! — oft holy nuns are young and charm- 
ing. 

SEC. KING. 
E'en here? E'en here? 
Now, by my halidom! I doubt it not, — 
Nay, nay! 

Discerning shavelings will look well to that, — 
For, like the best of ruttish masculinity, 



*KIng Edgar was unmarried at this period, though liv- 
ing with Elfleda, his favorite mistress, according to 
Hume, till he married Elfrida. 

28 



Scene III. The Faithless Favobite. 

With most lascivious sith forbidden relish 
They con each pleasing bulge and curve of con- 
tour 
That marks fair woman dedicate to maternity — 
For all their beads, and psalms, and groaning 

penances! 
Heigh-ho!— solitude, thy joys soon cloy. 

KING EDGAR. 

Impious Scot! Art not ashamed? 
SEC. KING {pursuing Ms hent) 
Go to,— egad!-— thou know'st full well— who bet- 
ter?— 
That in all nunn'ries there be eyes and legs 
May make cold monks forget their prayers— and 

chastity. 
Kings are sometimes tempted. 

KING EDGAR. 

Bluff Kenneth, when there's honey in the hive 

High convent walls are not impregnable:* 

And men were made to use their opportunities. 

Ha, ha, ha! 
CHORUS OF COURTIERS IN BACKGROUND. 

Ha, ha, ha! 
SEC. KING {to FIRST) 

Alfear, methinks those roving, beady eyes. 

Which 'neath redundant brows gaze half ex- 
tinguished 

From thy nose-dominated face, 

Turn darkly on us. — Speak! 

What growl'st thou in thy beard? 

* Edgar, so highly lauded by the cowled chroniclers, was 
actually guilty of breaking into a convent and carrying off 
Editha, a nun, to be his concubine. 

29 



The Faithless Favorite. Act I, 

FIRST KING. 

That Kenneth lies. 

SEC. KING (Ms hand to his sword) 
How, lies? — Death, villain! 

FIRST KING (ditto, advancing) 

Most impudently lies, thou babbling tarn! 
Slandering religion and our womanhood. 

[Both draw. 

KING EDGAR. 

Sheathe swords, sheathe swords, ye turbulent 

kings! 
This in the presence? 

SBC. KING (sheathing) 
Well, well! 

He doth proclaim himself of meager wit 
Who draws his blade in dudgeon o'er a jest. 

FIRST KING (ditto) 
What! 

Thy plaided wenches with be-porridged chaps 
Compare with Freya's children? Flippant Pict, 
I tell thee, though thou searchedst all the stars 
That gleam in Orion's baldric, thou couldst never 
Find peer to our Earl Olgar's daughter. 

KING EDGAR. 
Ha! 

SEC. KING. 
Nay, I have done. Discretion pens my thoughts 
Safe under bolt and key: intemperance rages. 

[Turns away* 

*This is hardly an injustice to King Kenneth : — his 
disposition to talk more than he would maintain is in- 
stanced in the story about King Edgar when the latter 
took him to task in the wood for his jest about his — 
King Edgar's — stature. 

80 



Scene III. The Faithless Favorite. 

FIRST KING. 

'Fore God, well done! 

Bolt fast that tongue lest ignorance break gaol. 

KING EDGAR. 
A truce, a truce! The strife grows wearisome. 
What have we now? 
Enter DUNSTAN. 

DUNSTAN. 

Saint Peter smite the sacrilegious hilding! 

SEC. KING. 

'Sblood! 

KING EDGAR. 

How now, Dunstan? 

DUNSTAN. 

King! for thy private ear and present audience 
I have a tale of most abhorrent villainy. 

KING EDGAR (smiling) 

Nay, is it so? We'll give it audience, Abbot: — 
(turns to others) 

Good Princes, grant us leave and we anon 

Will make amends with sumptuous entertain- 
ment. 

Kenneth, some jests break bones, — keep that in 
mind; 

And thou, good Alfear, learn to smile at raillery. 

[Exeunt KING EDGAR and DUNSTAN.— 
Scene ends. 



31 



The Faithless Favorite. Act I, 

ACT I, SCENE IV. — ^Another room in the same. — 
KING EDGAR leaning negligently against a 
window. 

Enter DUNSTAN and OFFA.* 

DUNSTAN. 
Behold! 

KING EDGAR (impatiently) 
Cowl; — cowl and cassock, nothing else, Arch- 
bishop. 

DUNSTAN (throwing hack OFFA'S hood) 
What seest thou now? 

KING EDGAR. 
Why, a man — 

Cry you mercy — no! — a monk — that wears shame- 
faced 
A livid scar athwart each chap, which somewhat 
Mars his swart visage, — Mass, he hath no need 
To make the sign o' the cross at his devotions! 
For he hath two in's face — one on each cheek. 

DUNSTAN (sternly) 
Coldly thou jestest, monarch! — ^though the heart 
Of priesthood bled when violence dealt this blow. 

KING EDGAR. 
Heyday, heyday! — our birthright that, good Dun- 
stan. 



♦In the chronicle the ostensible object of Athelwold'a 
visit to Olgar is given as being to look after certain mili- 
tary marches or boundaries, supposedly in danger from 
au incursion of Danes. But as the play needed a villain, 
as well as an object for the visit, the author thought here 
to kill two birds with one stone. 

32 



Scene IV. The Faithless Favorite. 

DUNSTAN. 
The priest is privileged, for his sacred person 
Is the faith's temple: — wherefore mere indigni- 
ties 
In others are, when visited on a priest. 
Atrocious crimes, and cry to Heav'n for ven- 
geance. 

KING EDGAR. 

Then to the purpose, Abbot: — who hath wrought 
This grievous injury? 

DUNSTAN. 
Olgar. 

KING EDGAR, (aside) 
That name again! — the man blessed with a 

daughter — 
There's sorcery in the theme. 

DUNSTAN. 
Who harbors evil-doers or protects 
Thereby transfers their guilt to his own shoul- 
ders: — 
What an the servant smote him? — 
He goes unpunished through his master's favor, 
This self-same Olgar, Earl of Devonshire — 
Wherefore Lord Olgar, — whom I here arraign 
Culprit in chief, not mere accessory, look you — 
Incurs full odium for the hellish crime. 

KING EDGAR. 

Thou reasonest most subtly, learned prelate. 

(aside) 
O chance! how wonderfully dost thou gibe 
Occasion to our purposes. 

33 



The Faithless Favorite. - Act I, 

DUNSTAN. 

Offa, each fact and circumstance relate 

Of the fell outrage. 
OFFA. 

Alas! Alas! [Wrings his hands, eto. 

DUNSTAN. 

See, how the holy man 
Weeps to bring accusation! 

OFFA. 
Venerable Archbishop, and renowned Prince, 
I freely do forgive mine enemies 
Like Christ; — like him renounce all vengeance. 

DUNSTAN. 

Woe to the malefactors! Church and State 
Shall them aread their harshest penalties. 

OFFA. 

Nay! — under your gracious favor, the poor priest 
Will hence and leave them unindicted. 

KING EDGAR. 

Not so, not so, sir priest! — ^thou shalt recount. 
We do command thee — and that most minutely — 
How thou cam'st by this same disfigurement. 

DUNSTAN. 
The priest's cause is Religion's, and the Church 
Hath in his wrongs more injury than himself. 

OFFA. 

Oh, I am moved by that appeal!— though loth 
For mine own sake to bring destruction on 
HER enemies — though richly they deserve it. 

[With venom. 

KING EDGAR, {impatiently) 
Come, monk! — unbosom thyself. 

34 



Scene IV. The Faithless Favorite. 

OFFA. 
Know then, that Olgar hath an hoary steward 
Hight Ina, who has ta'en in his senectitude 
A young wife and a comely. — Well-a-way! 
Age brings no sapiency to jealous fools. 
But thus it chanced: — in a most fatal moment 
She falling sick, unhaply sent for me 
To minister unto her in her illness 
According to my priestly offices; — 
Comforting her fears one evening, and at parting 
Laying my chaste hands on her bosom thus, 
And bowing dov/n my head to breathe upon her 
The holy benediction, — in rushed Ina, 
And with outrageous, sacrilegious words — 

- Charging his priest with sinful liberties — 
Dragged me — ^austere, devout and innocent! — 
Forth by the heels, and cruelly with his dagger 
Smote me, O God! (weeps) And thus, forever- 
more 

Scarred and disfigured, shall the hapless priest 

- Wander the earth, exposed to scoff and jeer, 
As Ina vowed I should be — as a warning. 
So he declared, unto all priests like me: 
Wherefore he spared my life. 

[Bows down his head and weeps amain. 

DUNSTAN (raising his hand in imprecation) 
Strike him with palsy, Christ! 
Living or dying, if his lips blaspheme 
Thy name in prayers for mercy. 

KING EDGAR (coldly) 

Thou hast had some ill-usage, but methinks 
Olgar's connection is not yet apparent; — 

35 



The Faithless Favorite. Ac* 7, 

Known privileges, 'tis true, were scarce re- 
spected! 

OFFA. 

Concealed by Olgar, Ina foils the law. 
KING EDGAR (with alacrity) 

Hah! — then shall we direct a messenger 

Despatch unto him, charged with our command 

To yield up Ina to the magistrates, 

And likewise prompt the latter to their duty. 

[He is agitated. 
DUNSTAN. 

And bills of excommunication thou 

Shalt bear for both: — if Olgar prove recalci- 
trant — 

But all events for Ina. 
OFFA (aside) 

Faith! I have somewhat overshot the mark. 
KING EDGAR. 

Lord Athelwold shall be our envoy; — him 

Thou canst accompany, monk. 
OFFA (aside) 

Who spurs too hard betimes, 
May ride too far betimes.* 
DUNSTAN. 

Bate not a moment: — forth upon the journey, 

And I will furnish needful funds and documents. 
KING EDGAR. 

Abbot, bid Athelwold attend. [Exit DUNSTAN. 
OFFA (kneeling) 

Most gracious sovereign! 

I do beseech thee, let me bear thy message — 



♦Suggested by "he tires betimes that spurs too fast 
betimes." 

36 



Scene IT. The Faithless Favorite. 

Mass! it doth ill beseem a noble earl 
To leave his pleasures for an humble priest. 
When one may bear the twofold instrument; — 
This from the Church, the other from the State — 
Which shall, without great argument, constrain 
The quaking subject to grant speedy redress 
To me — how wronged, but oh! — how prone to 
pardon. 

KING EDGAR {drumming) 

He speaks! 
OFFA. 

Upon his knees the priest implores the boon. 
KING EDGAR. 
Oh! — thou art kneeling — rise! 

[OFFA does so. 
Re-enter DUNSTAN with ATHELWOLD. 

Abbot, I prithee, take thy follower hence. 
And presently Earl Athelwold shall join him. 

[Exeunt DUNSTAN and OFFA. 
Welcome, my heart! {tJie KING embraces 

ATHELW.) 
How are thy spirits? — Nay, I need not ask: — 
For in thine eye the soul of content beams, 
And thou canst know no dumps whose every 

mood 
Of being's but a phase of happiness. 
Oh! on that brow, so fair, so smooth, so open, 
May never guilt, desire or foiled ambition 
Stamp their dark impress of sinister lines. — 
Alas! 
ATHELW. 
Why sighs my King? 

37 



The Faithless Favorite. Act I, 

KING EDGAR. 

King, king! — again, alas! 
ATHELW. 

What, kings have griefs too? 

'This true then — not philosophy's mere carping? 

KING EDGAR. 
Oh, for the subject's lot! — I hate mine own. 

ATHELW. 

Subjects there be not loth for such exchange. 
As kings have found ere this to their own cost. 

KING EDGAR. 

Blind ignorance fathers still ambition's spawn, 
And robs of peace to dower with despair. 
Oh, little kens the sheltered rush of storms 
That rage above and waste the lordly elm! 
Place and high rahk — alas, what specious bau- 
bles! 
Kings are but impotent playthings in the hands 
Of Fate, and at the best but master-puppets 
That dance betimes upon the string of passion, 
And other chords that move the simplest swain 
To sorry capers, long the jest of sages. 
And e'en perhaps less fortunate and weaker, 
Plus their peculiar cares, (abruptly) Dost know 
Elfrida? 

ATHELW. 
Mine ears her fame but not mine eyes her person. 

KING EDGAR. 

Is she betrothed that steals the hearts of all? 

ATHELW. 

- To none betrothed, though courted by the realm, 
She reigns a fickle queen and fancy-free. 

38 



Scene IV. The Faithless Favobite. 

KING EDGAR. 
Come hither, then, and softly in thine ear 
I'll whisper my confession: — 
Edgar will wed her. 

ATHELW. 
Sire? 

KING EDGAR. 
Edgar will wed her. 

ATHELW. 
Oh! — kindly stars did smile upon her birth — 
May they still shed blessings on her nuptials! 

KING EDGAR (pacing the room) 
Yes! 
Let her be crowned that's hailed the queen of 

beauty, 
Since I must banish self to banish her: — 
E'er in my waking ear her praises ring, 
E'er to my sleeping eye her image comes — 
At least as fancy fond depictures her — 
Radiant and young, and graceful as a sprite. 
Alas! — she hath become the soul of me, 
Creeping by stealth into the deepest crypts 
Of being, where she reigns enshrined in love. 
Oh! — at the casual mention of her name 
My pulses thrill with rapture, and desire 
Most vehement consumes me.* 
But Athelwold, before we put the picture 
In's golden frame thou shalt inspect it closely. 
And with the critic's captious eye pronounce 
What charm is overdrawn, what flaw exists: — 



*The ardent and inflammable nature of King Edgar Is 
but too well attested by authentic history. 

39 



The Faithless Favorite. A.ct J, 

And for this purpose shalt direct repair, 

Attended as is meet, to Olgar's castle; 

Where, if the maid's as fair and good as rumored. 

Thou Shalt bespeak her consort to thy King; 

And as a token of authority 

Wear this, my signet. 

VGives ATHELWOLD Ms ring. 
ATHELW. 

How if I judge amiss, alas, O King? 

KING EDGAR. 

Thou shalt not suffer for default of judgment, 
But by thy hopes! — by all thoti boldest sacred! 

{soleTnnly) 
Swear on thy knees not to betray thy King, 
But speak the truth, bating nor jot nor tittle 
Of all thou seest, of all thou hearest. 
[TUe KING raises his hand. 

ATHELW. Xkneeling) 

Witness, high Heaven! I take the solemn oath. 

KING EDGAR. 
Then get thee gone, — I'll rail at lagging time. 
And pine till thou returnest. [They embrace. 

ATHELW. 

Farewell! — thou wilt commend thy favorite's 
zeal. [Going. 

KING EDGAR, (turns in the act of retiring) 
Oh!-r-bide a moment — stay — a black-browed 

priest, 
I do bethink me, w^aits for thee without, 
And he will travel in thy company. 
In sooth, thy mission is supposed to be 
In his behalf — ^this satellite of Dunstan — 

40 



Scene IV. The Faithless Favoeite. 

To bring to justice oae whom Olgar shields 

Who hath done Off a injury. — But dissemble! — 

Cloak well the true design with feigned zeal 

For Off a, but encompass the main object; 

And mark me, for the matter in dispute, 

Adjust it not to Olgar's detriment 

Be what its merits may, or Dunstan's wishes. 

Who will enlarge upon particulars. 

Away, and learn the truth! — and may thy lips 

Blast not my hopes! 

ATHELW. 
Forefend it, kindly Heaven! 

[Exeunt severally. 



41 



ACT II. 



Act II. 

ACT II, SCENE I.— The forest near ATHEL- 
STAN'S castle. 

Enter FOUR OUTLAWS dragging in RED- 
WALD. 

FIRST OUT. , 
Jog, jog! [Pushing RED. 

SEC. OUT. (sings) 

SONG. 

RobMng the rich that roh the poor 
Is Fortune's spite, misfortune's cure; — 
And Fortune's still a Mind old dame, 
Leaving a crutch where none are lame — 
E'er, as the poor knock at her door. 
Still busy with some rich man's store, 
While they that lack may need, I ween, 
Till glowing icicles are seen: — 

Thus runs the world awry — 

8ing ho! the world's awry. 
The rich man's all, the poor man's nought, — 
The world foreclosed, e'en Heaven is bought — 

Deny't, fat priest! deny. 
You like it not? — Then move a peg — 

Get off the planet! — 
Or if y' will not meekly die, 

Nor yet trapan* it, 
Why, zounds, dog! cringe and beg — 

God keep the rich, sing I! 

CHORUS. 

They shall divide, divide, divide! 

* Trapan — to cozen, to take advantage of by trick, snare, 
or stratagem, — hence to prosper by unfair means at tlie 
world's expense. 

45 



The Faithless Favorite. Act II, 

FIRST OUT. 

/ claim the cloak he flaunts with pride. 

[Tears it oft. 
SBC. OUT. 

His coat is mine, that fact is plain. [Seizes it. 

THIRD OUT. 
And lest in cuerpo* he remain 
I'll strip the duke amain, amain: — 

[Going adout it. 
'Twere ill a lord of his degree 
Should lack, sirs, in civility. 

FOURTH OUT. 
Bravo! — and not to see me out 
He'll grant his breeches too, sans douM. 

[To his spoils. 

RED. (struggling) 
Fiends! Fiends! 

FIRST OUT. 

To it, Harold! Thoii'lt taste defeat else, (sings) 
Where twain do strive 
Not twain may thrive. 

SEC. OUT. 
Ho, ho, ho! He has his hands full, (sings) 
His shirt, his breeches and his shoes — 
Quoth he — Fve still some skin to lose. 

THIRD OUT. 

Bully boy! Bully boy! I could split my sides 
laughing. 



*In cuerpo — "without the formalities of full dress ; 
without cloak or upper garment, the shape of the body 
being exposed" — en deshabille. 

46 



Scene I. The Faithless Favorite. 

SEC. OUT. 
La, they'll stick, they'll stick! Two pence he 
don't shell him. 

FIRST OUT. 
I'll take ye. 

FOURTH OUT. (panting) 
Pest on't! I'll straighten thee. [Draws a dagger. 

CHORUS. 
Hold! Hold! 
Enter HAKO. 

HAKO. 

How now! — what do ye? Stay thy murthering 
hand! 
{Knocks the OUTLAW'S dagger from his grasp. 

FOURTH OUT. 
Faith, Captain! not so fast: — we have e'en limed 
a bird of gay plumage. Oh! you will struggle, 
will you? [To RED. 

FIRST OUT. 

And let none hold back from the plucking, say I. 

SBC. OUT. 
And I. 

THIRD OUT. 

And I. 
HAKO. 

Nay, as to that, let custom prevail. But alack, 
Sir Melancholy! — thou wast like to have been 
somewhat misused, (to RED.) Ha, ha, ha! 
FIRST OUT. 
"Warily, warily. 

47 



The Faithless Favorite. Act II, 

FOURTH OUT. 
Fear not me. [Secures RED. 

HAKO. 
What, not one word? — How took ye him, gal- 
liards? 

FIRST OUT. 
Under an old oak muttering paternosters. 

SBC. OUT. 
As he doth now, belike — he screws his face so. 

THIRD OUT. 
On his knees, yes; — as to praying — well! 

FOURTH OUT. 

Rather searching for something. 
THIRD OUT. 

More likely. 
FIRST OUT. 

Ods-bodikins! What if this be the apparition? 

HAKO. 

Apparition, quotha? 

FIRST OUT. 
By the mass, Captain! — it hath haunted the woods 
the past sennight, as many a stout forester can 
tell thee. 

HAKO. 
Peace, fool! 

SEC. OUT. (feeling RED.) 
Here's common dross! — This is mere concupis- 
cential flesh and blood. 

THIRD OUT. 

Marry, doubt it not! — the ghost's genuine. 

48 



Scene I. The Faithless Favorite. 

FIRST OUT. 
Oh! — to be sure, he lacks the wraith's stature. 

SEC. OUT. 
And its manly breadth of shoulder. 

THIRD OUT. 
Its long arms, swinging like flails. 

FOURTH OUT. 
And its beard. 

FIRST OUT. 
Its flowing hair. 

SEC. OUT. 
And its hollow groans: — by'r Lady! — it fetched a 
most dismal sound. 

HAKO. 
Amazement! Ye all saw it then? 

FIRST OUT. 

Saw it? — Saw the ghost? — hear him! Mass, no! 
— not I, thank you. 

SEC. OUT. 

Nor I. 
THIRD OUT. 1 

Nor I. 
FOURTH OUT. 

Nor I. 
HAKO. 
Excellent!— here's human nature, (laughs aloud) 
Here's the metaphysics of mystery! — Thus mir- 
acles have many witnesses: — give superstition 
rein and infected fancy will blithely describe 
things supernatural, which human eye hath 
ne'er seen, with as much precision as a lawyer's 

49 



The Faithless Pavobite. Act II, 

clerk draws an inventory, (to the OUTLAWS) 
On what grounds, then, are ye so circumstan- 
tial? [Confused silence. 

FIRST OUT. {presently nudging SEC.) 
Answer! Answer! 

SEC. OUT. {nudging THIRD) 

Answer! 
THIRD OUT. {to FOURTH) 

Now, by Saint Denis! — was't not you told it me? 

FOURTH OUT. {cornered) 
Who, U—weW.— I— {defiantly) I had Tom Thim- 
blewit's word for it. 

HAKO. 
He is not here — ay, thus it goes. 

FIRST OUT. 
A true ghost-seer, Tom! [More confidently. 

FOURTH OUT. 

Seven-seventh son — born with a caul on Sunday. 
What, doubt Tom? 

FIRST OUT. 

He smelt horribly of brimstone that night — his 
doxy swears it. — All know Tom! 
SEC. OUT. 

Oh! — there can be no mistake about it. 

[With conviction. 
THIRD OUT. 

To be sure not! [Yery positively. 

FOURTH OUT. 

Not a doubt! [As dogmatically. 

HAKO. 

Redoubtable authority! — Bulwarks of credibility! 

50 



Scene I. ' The Faithless Favorite. 

FOURTH OUT. (angrily) 
Zounds! — as to that twenty others — 

FIRST OUT. 
Ay, forty! — 

HAKO. 
Of unimpeachable veracity — 
So ye would vouch — all more or less remote, 
I dare be sworn. But let it pass — content ye. 
(to RED.) 

Earl, duke, or prince, who art thou? — speak! 

[RED. is silent. 
FIRST OUT. 
He scorns to answer. 

SEC. OUT. 
His gaze is lost in wild vacuity. 

THIRD OUT. isJiaking RED.) 
Hill — hill — hilla-ho! The wight is scarce awake. 

FOURTH OUT. {J)randisUng) 

Shall I knock in his sinciput with my partisan? 

HAKO. 

Not so, Harold Hawk! 

'Tis a lone springald worth a goodly ransom, — 

More little recks, save what and whence he is. 

Which time will featly tell. 

Attend him hence well guarded to the cave. 

Clad in his proper raiment, and, though captive, 

Accord him gentle usage in detention. 

Despatch! 

[The OUTLAWS restore REDWALD'S gar- 
ments. 

51 



The Faithless Favorite. Act II, 

FIRST OUT. (sings) 

Oh! — he was a knight for a lady pert — 

Ten stone or moe of humanized dirt, 

With a trusty sword to trim his nails, 

And a squire to catch him toads and snails: — 

For the knight he loved a foreign stew. 

And found his fate in a ragout — 

And that is the end of this legend true. 

CHORUS. 
And that, etc. [Exeunt the FOUR with RED. 

HAKO (flinging himself under a tree) 
Let the fool laugh! — wise men lament enow. 
Tut! — its afflictions keep the world in humor; — 
Our worst misfortunes tune some fellow's mirth, 
Who in his turn shall weep while others laugh. 
Sarcastic flings create infectious laughter. 
But purged of malice men were grave as owls: — 
There lies wit's recompense and vindication. 

(pulls a ring out of his pocket) 
Hah, thou jewel, 

Thou be'st a goodly stone right boldly won — 
Ho, ho, ho! 

The festive lords would not say nay to that. 
Thou trophy of a Dane's audacity, (puts it on) 
What was thy source, imperial substance pure? 
Belike thou shin'st a crystallized ray 
Of the first sun that warmed Creation's dawn. 
And still undimmed, thou mock'st humanity — 
Unstable matter cast in tenuous mould! — 
With its mere frail and passing nothingness. 

(takes it off) 

52 



Scene II. - The Faithless Favorite, 

Ah! — a motto, {he reads) 

"Loseh* loseh" — I hear the woods groan — 

Pish! — here be characters I can't decipher. 
Though the last line is plain and legible: — 
(repeats) 

"Losel, losey — I hear the woods groan — 



Who wears the ring will claim his own. 

Humph, humph! 

Quaint words save thought and cheer the fool's 
conceit. 

Enter an OUTLAW, running. 
OUT. 

Fly, Captain, fly! — the soldiers are upon us. 

[Exit. 
HAKO. 
Athelstan's archers, by Christ's holy rood, 
And, ten to one, in odds but ill withstood. 

[Exit. 

ACT II, SCENE II.— The same. 

Enter ATHBLSTAN and SOLDIERS with an 
OUTLAW, captive. 
ATH. 

After them, after them! What ho! — the scent's 
but a hot chase to the keen hound, though the 
hare to a dull one. [Exeunt several SOLDIERS. 



*Losel — Careless, wasteful, slothful ; — used here indefi- 
nitely, as all talismanic inscriptions acquire power from 
obscurity. The rest has reference to Athelwold (or 
wald) , noMe wood, and Redwald, red wood. 

> 53 



The Faithless Favorite. Act II, 

FIRST SOLD. 
What's to be done with this acorn, my lord? 

ATH. 

Hang him high on his native oak, and that pres- 
ently. 
FIRST SOLD. 

Festinately, your worship. [Produces a rope. 

SEC. SOLD. 
May we thus, too, serve the leader that so au- 
daciously entered your lordship's castle! 

ATH. 

Yea, truly! — one great thief hung keeps many lit- 
tle rogues out of gaol. [Exit. 

THIRD SOLD. 

Comrade, wilt pledge me a cup of mead ere thou 
goest? 

FIRST SOLD. 

Nay, let him keep his thirst awhile: — he'll drink 
the devil's health the better presently. 

SBC. SOLD. 

Thou'lt sup on hot dishes to-night, Ned, in lieu 
of venison. 

OUT. (with supreme sang froid) 
All's one for that! — 
The world's a sorry tavern at the best, 
And he's the wise knave that's not o'er finical; — 
Take what's put in the dish, sirrah! 
Where all's rank a nice nose starveth a man. 
Wouldst more o' the homily, fellow? 
Discharge just reckonings, go about thy business. 
And when night falls fear not the bugabo, 

54 



Scene III. The Faithless Favorite. 

But civilly take thy leave, not grudging those 

Privileged to sit up later, — for thyself. 

Content to sleep when the day's done, not pul- 
ing: — 

All must soon follow to the narrow room. 

The way thou well canst find without a candle 

Bought off some clamorous rogue with half thy 
goods — 

Oh! — ^'tis the damned candle merchants 

Whose tricks have vested death with ail its hor- 
rors. 

And darker the night the higher priced their 
wares. 

Peste! — will ye finish? [He whistles. 

FIRST SOLD, 

Eftsoons, thou merry knave! 

[Flings the rope round the OUTLAW'S neck. 
SBC. SOLD. 

Ha, ha, ha! — He is in haste to be gone. 
THIRD SOLD. 

But some pyramids will crumble before he re- 
turns. 

FIRST SOLD. 
Heave ho! [Scene closes, 

ACT II, SCENE III.— A village in DEVONSHIRE. 

Enter two UNDER-OFFICERS of a court. 
THE LONG ONE. 

Has the case of Osburga come to trial yet? 
THE SHORT ONE. 

She indicted as a witch with her daughter? 

55 



The Faithless Favoeite. Act II, 

T. L. O. 

The same. 
T. S. 0. 

Yes, sooth; — this morn, and both acquitted. 
T. L. O. 

Acquitted! — and after the hot water ordeal,* too? 
T. S. O. 

Pooh, verdancy! — name me not ordeals: — are 
there not powders that steam up in cold water 
to deceive on-lookers? And are not judges 
vendible? 
T. L. 0. 
Are eggs? — ^Well!— as to that girl, I regret not 
her coming off, seeing that she is the less cen- 
surable under her bringing-up. 
T. S. 0. 

O'er-young, too, methinks: — beat thine ass too 
much when his hide is tender and thou canst 
throw the scourge away anon, and find Goli- 
ath's staff a vain prod. 
T. L. O. 
Who can censure her? — Where the channel winds 
the stream turns: as bred so sped. 
T. S. O. 
Meaning that, as a winding channel makes a 
crooked stream, so evil habits learned in youth 
lead betimes to shame and ruth. Early misdi- 
rection indeed leads apace to bootless repent- 
ance. [Ter^/ oracularly like the rest of this talk. 



* Ordeals — It is probably unnecessary to remind the 
reader that the ordeal of red-hot iron was reserved for 
the aristocracy, that of hot water allotted to the common 
people. 

56 



Scene III. The Faithless Favorite. 

T. L. O. 

Yes, faith, thou commentary! — And conversely, 
whoso lieth among flowers carrieth with him 
betimes the fragrance thereof: — so good breed- 
ing long defies bad living. 
T. S. O. 
By the beards of thy apothegms! — I am aweary. 
What say'st — shall we not take yon by-path 
(pointing) and save time? 
T. L. O. 

To save time? — Ha, ha, ha! 
T. S. O. 

Why laugh'st? 
T. L. O. 
Ha, ha, ha! — There's something beyond the hedge 
— that's thy concern (sings) 

He sleeps sound who never winks, 
But sure he's dead who never drinks. 
T. S. O. 
Thou long-winded attenuation! — ^Why dost eat, 
hah? Tell me that. 
T. L. O. 

Go to; — short words take long paces. 
T. S. O. 

I scorn thee and thy insinuations. What, sir! — I 
deny not a seemly official portliness, (patting 
it) or the infirmity of short legs, but defy 
rank comparisons. As to agility — 
T. L. O. 

Short legs? — Ah! — ^that reminds me — I'll mollify 
thee with a story. A fat widow bathing — 

[Exeunt. 

57 



The Faithless Favorite. Act II, 

FROM BEHIND THE SCENES. 
Ha, ha, ha! 



ACT II, SCENE IV.— The same.— A lane with a hut 
in the background. 

Enter ROWENA and an OLD SAXON. 

ROW. 

Like dew upon the shriveled leaf and sere. 
Mocking the death within, upon my heart 
Distill* thy words of comfort all untimely. 
Alas, my youth! — Oh, guileless innocence! — 
Wh3^ was I born? — unskilled in human wiles! — 
An orphan, too! — but doubly now deserted. 

"He will return!" — ^thus evermore anon 

Hope buoys the sinking heart — 

"He will return" — but vain the straining eye 

Seeks the familiar features in each throng; — 

Vain the ear hearkeneth at the midnight hour — • 

Startled to watchfulness when dead leaves fall. 

When all may sleep 

Save frenzy, guilt and love, 

By cozening hopes still roused to bootless vigil. 

Till the sick soul find surcease in the grave. 

O Death! Thou hast been ruthless called. 

But art less cruel than man, 

For thou, Necessity Inevitable! 

Oft heal'st deep wounds no other cure retrieves. 

Which man inflicts on man in wantonness; 

And thou, the great recourse, 



*Distill — dis and stillo — to drop down, — here used ety- 
mologically. 

58 



Scene IV. The Faithless Favorite. 

Fail'st neither time, nor place, nor age, nor sex! 
But ever, like an indulgent mother, coming — 
An all-just power — giv'st long respite to pain. 

(she kneels) 
Lord! — in supreme compassion 
Uproot the broken reed — 
Woe, woe is me! — but not alone destroy. 
Not on one only pour thy vials of wrath. 
But on him also — O perfidious wretch! — 
The perjured father of the babe unborn. 

[8he weeps — he waits for the storm to subside. 

OLD SAX. (at length) 
Dost sigh for death? 

ROW. 

Ay me, unhappy! — Do I sigh for death? 
That boon — 

OLD SAX. 

Peace! — here's that shall serve thee, {produces 

a vfb.1) 
Draw but the stopper and inhale two breaths. 
And thou wilt sink in deadly torpor down, — 
Oblivious clay ere thought can frighten faith. 
Nay! — shrink not back, — why dost thou hesitate? 
Dastards lament the fate they durst not mend. 
Or wouldst thou rather plunge into thy bosom — - 
Like a true Norseman's daughter — trenchant 

steel? 
Take then this instrument. {.Offers a dagger. 

ROW. {recoiling) 
Away! 

Thou mock'st me, knowing well I durst not do it: 
Frail woman's desperate resolutions ever 

59 



The Faithless Favorite. Act II, 

Fall short the deed, put suddenly to the touch — 
What! — two at one fell stroke? — no, no! 
Besides — who knows? — he yet may learn contri- 
tion. 

OLD SAX. 

Oh, notable juggling! — Sweet consistency! 
Here's the very cozenage thou complain'dst of. 

ROW. 
Oh, tax me not with that! — what hath consistency 
To do with woman? — Whiles the winds blow 
Where the winds list, her moods will veer and 

vary. 
But, hoary mentor, I perceive thy drift: — 
Unruly minds are curbed by harsh reproof. 
When mild remonstrance fails — I humbly thank 

thee. 
Thy lesson proves these lips belie my heart. 
Which clings to life, o'er-burdened though it be;- 
And still I love. — Ah, cruel Thelwy! [She weeps. 

OLD SAX. {leaning on his staff) 
Girl, this is better; — I commend thee for it. 
Passion affects a tragic insincerity. 
But they are not deceived who read humanity. 
Live on! — Hope ever! — nay, why shouldst thou 

not — 
Since, to assuage the pangs 

Of that small, festering sore i' the loins of Time- 
Man! — 

No healing balm exists save this same hopeful- 
ness? 
But look you, sundry faculties. 
Powers or attributes, call them what you please — 

60 



Scene IV. The Faithless Favorite. 

Prudence and fortitude, hope, faith and judger 

ment. 
With instincts keen, beneficent and true — 
Obedient all to wise-directing Reason, 
Have been implanted in the human soul. 
And, rightly exercised, are fully equal 
To all our petty, mundane exigencies. 
But mortals, ignorant, rash or little versed 
In their own strength, contemning innate powers. 
Bewail — lugubrious — ills of folly born; — 
And sunk supine, in prayer — 
Though 'gainst adversities full-panoplied, fore- 
provided — 
Assail high Heaven with cries unwearied, 
Thinking to move Omnipotence — 
Vertiginous weaklings, thought-incompetent! — 
To unseemly supererogation: — 
Like bold petitioners pressing to the King, 
V/hen at the foreign capital installed 
Dwell his ambassadors with plenary power. 
For such I deem our faculties divine — 
God's effluence direct and representative, — 
If Godhead be,— 

And all-sufficient boot for mortal ills. 
Potent alike to obviate and annul. 

ROW. 

Too deep for me thy thoughts, but this I know: 
Who wins the puissant ear best pleads his suit. 
As fountains gush when niggard rills do fail. 
O good King Edgar! — would he heard my plaint- 
But soon he shall. 

OLD SAX. 
What! 

61 



The Faithless Favorite. Act II, 

Bend'st thou thy cumbered footsteps towards the 
court? 
ROW. 

Yea. 
OLD SAX. 

Wherefore? 

ROW. 

To seek Mm out, — my wedded lord. Earl Thelwy— 
Of the King's thanes the noblest and most 

comely. 
'Twas the King's mandate tore him from these 

arms. 
And meet it is the monarch make amends. 

OLD SAX. 
Where lies his castle, say, and broad demesne? — 
What is his lineage — what his father's name? 

ROW. 

Why, — I — I know not that. [Emhurrassed. 

OLD SAX. 
Nay, if thou wilt not thou need'st not divulge 

it,— 
Though too secretive pride oft loses friends. 

ROW. 

Be not thus wroth, O thou that shelterest me! 

I speak the truth. 
OLD SAX. 

Then truth's once more incredible. — ^A wife, 

And not know that? — How many eyes hast 
thou?— 

Or ears, or hands, or feet? — Know'st aught of 
this?— 

Wives know as well the other. 

62 



Scene IV. The Faithless Favorite. 

ROW. 
Alas, alas! 

Distrusting naught implicit love dies mute: — 
He told me never more — nor durst I question — 
Than this — his name was Thelwy, born an earl. 

OLD SAX. (striking Ms staff on the ground) 
. O simple, child-like, fond credulity! 
Why dwell'st in woman's shape? — 
Thou speed'st Hell's arch-devices, (a pause) 
Go! — ask the world how many maids purblind, 
Daily betrayed, trust all to lover's vows — 
Ten thousand will reply; — ten thousand thous- 
and — 
Or let me rather say a countless host — 
Suborned by death lie speechless: — 
Ay! rot self -slaughtered in accusing graves — 
If happily the outcast's bones find burial — 
In weed-grown trench unmarked cast by rude 

hands — 
Rocked to oblivion 'neath the whelming wave. 
Or by absolving potion, cord or dagger 
Rash hurried hence, impotent to despair. 
Nor be forgot the cities' cancerous scum, 
That by disease slow-eaten loathsome live, 
A ruinous scourge wide spreading, — and the 

monument . 
Unto his daily vice, 
And oldest crime — man's perfidy to woman. 

ROW. (shrieks) 
Alas, alas! — I shudder at thy words. 
Am I then lost, O God? — Give me thy poniard — 
Nay, I'll despatch myself — Oh, give it, give it! 

63 



The Faithless Favorite. Act It, 

Thou point'dst the way, old maa! — 'twas thine 

own counsel — {struggling) 
Naught dread I now — why should I? — Hope is 

life. 
And that spells Thelwy. 

OLD SAX. {restraining her) 
Thou ravest distracted — fy upon this tongue! — 
Come, come! — ply patience — is this the lesson? 
I know not aught concerns the noble Thelwy, 
But spake on mere surmise and indignation. 
Thou Shalt not die! — beyond grief's narrow hor- 
izon 
Lies good grief dreams not of. 

ROW. {subsiding) 

Methought thine ominous words had direst im- 
port: — 

His death, belike, or — Holy Mother- Virgin! 

Black apprehensions stun me. 

Souls in despair have perished through one word 

Falling from thoughtless lips, 
" When speech more kind had saved all. 

But I'll be patient; — yes! I'll quell these tumults. 

[Bighs. 
OLD SAX. 

I prithee, broach anew thy earlier griefs : — 

Thy parents both are gone and kindred near? 

ROW. {plaintively) 
Dead, dead! 

All perished in a massacre of Danes, 
Slain in the solemn watches of the night, — 
Unshrived their souls, unsepultured their bones. 
O my dilating eye! — {rising) it sees them yet — 

64 



Scene IV. The Faithless Pavobite, 

The mother clasps in vain her bleating babes, — 
Torn from her gory breast, she shrieks and dies! 
The father, mindful of his youthful fame — 
A rover once, he scourged the northern main — 
Stands i' the breach, 
Shouts his wild cry and dreadful wields his 

brand! — 
But, all unequal, soon the conflict ends: — {sinks 

down) 
Two orphans only live of tender years. 

OLD SAX. 
Misjudging Death! — why didst thou spare those 
twain? 

ROW. ' 

Did I say twain? — Alack, for thoughtless lips! — 
Ere long my peevish brother disappeared, 
Kidnapped or kept perdue by prudent friends, 
Or slain — I know not which nor e'er shall know- 
Whilst to a distant convent's shelt'ring walls 
I was conveyed — there nurtured many years — 
O placid years! — How could I bless those walls 
Still in my prayers, but that 'twas there I met 

Mtti! — 
By stress of weather blown to wreck my peace, — 
But hush, rude lips! — 'tis treason to upbraid. 

OLD SAX. 
Oh, fatal accident of a tempest's fury! 
What follows? 

ROW. 
What boots particulars? — suffice, we met: — 
And when occasion offered to an hamlet — 
An obscure hamlet — fled, and there were wed- 
ded— 

65 



The Faithless Favorite. Act 11, 

At least one clad in cassock read the forms. 
Three blissful months then sped — O brief, brief 

months! — 
When Thelwy met a courier of the King, 
Armed with a royal message and command — 
So he alleged — which summoned him to court; — 
I saw him nevermore, {she springs up) Hark, 

hark! 
What wild uproar! — alack, it comes this way! 

OLD SAX. 
A hubbub of voices, like a hue and cry, 
Hoarser and nearer — lo, lo! 

Enter OSBURGA pursued by VILLAGERS. 

FIRST VILL. 
Burn her — ^burn, burn, burn! 

SBC. VILL. 
Down with her, Lucifer's hell-kite! 

THIRD VILL. 
Head her off there! — hah — I have thee, witch! 

(hoidls) 
*0w, 'ow, 'ow! — she's scratched my eyes out. 
IHe grabbing OSBURGA, she attacks him with 
her nails and escapes. 

ROW. 
What hath the beldam done? — 
Oh, for ten minutes' manhood! — Thy weapons. 
{seizes the OLD SAXON'S staff and dagger 

and confronts the mob all pause dum- 

founded. The OLD SAXON comes to ROW- 
ENA'S side, while OSBURGA enters the 
hut) 
Goodman bell-wether! {menacing the leader) 

66 



Scene IV. The Faithless Favorite. 

And you, and you, and you! {menacing others) 

I'd have ye hold! — kind masters, be persuaded — 

Fall back! 

Ye number half a score, but look ye, one 

Spits on this dagger move the van an inch, {they 

fall hack — ROWENA mocks them) 
What, brave hearts! — diffident? {the mob in- 
creases) 
Come, come! — who's bold? — Elect the sacrifice, 
And then cry havoc, charging o'er this body 
To vent on one more frail your puissant wrath — 
Old like your mothers, woman like your wives — 
But that's all mal-apropos! {the mol) still in- 
creasing) 
The burden's still, if ye must have your quarry 
You're very welcome; — but in time remember 
One of ye perishes! 
Dies like a dog, my masters! — 
Scratched by the Viking's daughter. 

{The form of ROWENA sioells and towers with 
heroic emotion, — the m.ob still increases but 
does nothing. 
FIRST VILL. {aside) 

That ONE might be me — who knows? 
SEC. VILL. {aside) 

Humph! — suppose that's me. 
THIRD VILL. {aside) 

I'm unlucky — that won't be me! 
FOURTH VILL. 

I trow she means it — softly there! — push another. 
FIFTH VILL. 

She's a Dane's wolf-cub — didst hear? — How her 
eyes flash! 

67 



The Faithless Favorite. Act II, 

THIRD VILL. (ashamed and trying to make a jest 
of it) 
By Saint Paul's marrow-bones! — if there's to be 
more scratching iii this business I wash my 
hands on't. 

[Some Imigh, others murmur. — They seem on 
the point of dispersing. 
A WOMAN. 
At the fell witch! — Down with her sorceries!^ — 
Lest old wives break their jests upon your shins. 
Slay — slay — ^slay! — Death mends what judges 

mar. (no response) 
No? — Mute and motionless? — Alas, my babes! 
What will protect ye from the witch's spells? 
Vile coward scum — oh, see them! — fear-trans- 
fixed 
O'er a girl's skewer and a gaffer's staff! — 
There's for that strumpet! 

[Hurls a stone — the moh sways and seems on 
the point of charging, when a horn is heard 
— an instant later the following, mounted, 
dash upon the scene: — Enter ATHBLWOLD, 
ALFRED, OFFA and retinue. 
ATHELW. 
Ha! — A tumultuous rabble! — ride them down, 

gentles! 
Baiting a woman, too! — Up Rossignol — 
Bravely, bravely! 

[He reins his horse and with his retinue 
charges the VILLAGERS, who scatter in all 
directions, — the nobles jeering and hooting. 
ALFRED (as they are about to spur off) 
Hold, Athelwold! 

6$ 



Scene IV. The Faithless Favorite. 

Shall we not pause and inquire into this? 
ATHELW. 

No, no! — press on. Zounds! — they are dis- 
persed — 

Enough! We have not time to lose. 

{Exeunt — ATHELW. turning in his saddle and 
regarding ROWENA curiously, hut only for 
a moment. OSBURGA comes out of the hut. 
ROW. 

'Tis he! [Faints. 

OLD SAX. 

Who, where, which one? — Ho, horsemen, ho! 

'Tis vain to shout — they're gone. — She swoons — 

Oh, that eternal contradiction — woman! 
OSB. 

Stand back! — this is a woman's office. 
OLD SAX. 

She wakes. 
ROW. 

God! IWorJcs convulsively. 

OLD SAX. 

Speak! — What ails thee wretched? 
OSB. 

She writhes like one in agony, 

Rolling and tumbling — stretching helpless hands 

To us, more feckless. — ^Why, indeed — humph! — 
OLD SAX. 

See how she rolls those eyes and draws short 
gasps. 

Like one sore spent! — Ah! — now she resteth. 
OSB. 

How is it with thee? (to ROW.) Raise her head 
gently. 

69 



The Faithless Favorite. Act II, 

ROW. 
Dying! — Dying! — Convulsive pangs 
Seize on my entrails. Merciful Father! 
Thus — to thus — now — now! — [Swoons again. 

OSB. 
Oh! — bear her lightly to yon shelt'ring roof, 
And when 'tis dusk away to mine own cave, 
Where I will nurse her back to perfect health — 
Be what her illness may. 

[Exeunt hearing ROWBNA into the hut. 



ACT II, SCENE v.— The same. 

Enter the TWO OFFICERS very leisurely. 
THE LONG ONE. (wiping his lips) 

Touching the mole — 
THE SHORT ONE. (ditto) 

Where was the mole? 
THE LONG ONE. 

Where was it? — Oh, rare! — 

[Whispers — exeunt the two convulsed. 

ACT II, SCENE VI.— Before OSBURGA'S cave— a 
wild place, with the sound of a torrent filling the 
solitude. — Night. 

Enter HAKO and RODA meeting. 

RODA. 
What's there? — ^Who art thou? [Recoiling. 

HAKO. 
The stranger's challenge! — Thou art frightened? 

70 



Scene VI. The B^aithless Favorite. 

ROD A (not too cordially) 
Hako! 

HAKO. 
Thy Hako. {embraces her) 
Why dost thou greet me thus? — Sped twenty 

years, 
I'd know the very parings of thy nails. 
And every single eyelash from another's — 
By the dim flicker of a half-snuffed rush. 
Yes! — rased and lost to time, 
In the thronged avenues of Hell thy shade 
Should not out-post remembrance: — 
But Roda — poor, forgetful maid! — must ask 
"Who art thou" of her lover. 

RODA {coldly) 
Thou art more strenuous than poetical. 
Whence comest thou, lost sheep? — Thou are pro- 
scribed 
For old tricks, mind,— why then in Devonshire? 

[They sit. 
HAKO. {gayly) 

Why, an ill wind blew me hither, {sings) 

A chilling blast that in the east 

Blew from a castle high, 
And wrapped in winding-sheets at least 

Full twenty rogues, perdy. 

They've since learnt to sleep out nights, faith! 
As I may here in Devonshire. — Wouldst know 

more? — 
The roving bird still wings where summer 

breathes : — 
Thou art my summer, therefore am I here. 

71 



The Faithless Favobite. Act 11, 

There's jewels to match thine eyes. 
[Throws presents in RODA'S Zap. 

RODA {beginning to smile) 

Ah, truant, truant!— how canst tell they're 
bright yet? 

The spiteful moon sinks in the gulf of night, 

And through the murky pall what eye can 
pierce? 
HAKO {playfully) 

Roda begs compliments like an am'rous quean, — 

Inviting me to swear the moon's eclipsed, 

That Roda's charms illume the thickest night. 

Or some such fustian, ancient gallantry — 

But I'll not flatter save by light o' moon. — 

See! — she breaks forth {rising) 

From the wide ocean of blackness all around her, 

Full-orbed and glorious! — So the hope we cling 
to 

Beams beauteous when the whole world fails or 
damns us. — 

Ah, Christ! [Beating his breast. 

RODA. 

What's that gleams on thy finger? 
HAKO. 

Sweet, a ring. 
RODA (examining it) 

Oh, magnificent! — Come, give it me. [Kisses him. 
HAKO. 

No, I'll keep the trinket — 

Hast not enough, insatiate? 
RODA. 

Ask'st that of woman, simpleton? — Enough!-^ 

72 



Scene YI. The Faithless Favorite. 

She recks all naught that's balked in one desire, 
Though an adoring world kneel at her feet: — 
Dame Eve, thou know'st, gave Paradise for an 

apple 
Her heart was set on. — Fll have the ring. 

HAKO. 

There's a dying man's curse on it. 

RODA. 

'Twill hold a few centuries: — 
Hell's paltry millions all are fore-engaged 
To other curses;— ne'er a devil's at leisure 
To carry this out* 

HAKO. 
Girl, that's true enough! — 
Were man's fell wishes visited on his kind 
The air were full of devils:— plagues and famine. 
Engulfing earthquakes, volcans, crashing worlds 
Are bagatelles to his malevolence. 

RODA. 
V/hat art thou prating? — 
Teaze me no longer.— Stand ho!— deliver— 
I'll seize the thing I covet. [Attempting it. 

HAKO. 
Now by thy black brow^!— thou shalt not. 

RODA. 
Now by thy red beard!— I shall. 



*It IS, perhaps, not too extravagant to make Roda 
speak as if she regarded devils as the efficient agents of 
a curse's maleficence. When a drama is cast in a rude 
age we must, if possible, become temporarily primitive 
m order to properly understand it. Put thyself in his 
place, — the law of laws in life, — is also the best rule in 
drama, either as respects the writing thereof or the read- 
ing. 

73 



The Faithless Favorite. Act II, 

HAKO. 

Forbear — by Heaven! — thou shalt not. 
RODA. 
Oh, that's another pitch! — thou'rt in earnest. 

{desists) 
Fie on thee, stingy! — now I see thy baseness: — 
Unasked thou lavishest gaws of little worth, 
But wisely keep'st what's precious. — Take all thy 
dross! 

[She throws the jewels on the ground and 
pouts. — Hake regards her half amused, half 
angry. — A nightingale sings. 
HAKO. 

Sweet interloper! — Oh, ungracious maid. 
List to its plaintive note! — My bosom swells 
Responsive to its throbbing ecstasy. 
RODA. 

'Tis silent. 
HAKO. 
Oh! — what checks thee, bird? — Sing blithely, 
Unless thy love be rude as mine's unkind — 
Turning away or casting looks askance, {the Mrd 

sings) 
Hark! — again. 

O soulless! — ^like a stone inert and cold 
Thou sitt'st unmelting, — 
Though oft I've heard when Philomela sings 
Estranged lovers straight are reconciled. 
Or else they love not true. 
RODA {aside) 

This is e'en the boarding stage — now bravely! — 
The tear prevails where love's cajoleries fail. 
(aloud) 

74 



Scene YI. The Faithless Favorite. 

But Hako loves me not! [Weeps. 

HAKO (with deep feeling) 
I love thee not? — Now, by God's eyes! — 
Which are yon stars — but no! — I'll swear no 

oaths : — 
Compulsion of assent is not belief, 
And words are arrant traitors to deep thoughts,— 
The noblest when expressed seem wan and sickly. 
Oh! I could pour out my soul in burning vows. 
But thou wouldst not grow fond. 

ROD A (archly) 
Gramercy, Hako! 

The spirit of true love breathes in little acts 
Of sweet complaisance, not in mock heroics. 
Nor fulsome vows, persuasive oft to ruin. 

HAKO. 

Still on that scent? — Selah. — Man made the 

world 
To cast in woman's lap, — kings leave it 
To loll there: — then take thou the ring (giving 

it). 
'Twas not I grudged thee such a simple gift 
That I denied thy wish, but my misgivings: — 
Some dark presentiment fills my soul with awe 
Whene'er I gaze upon this jeweled band; — 
And I would die condemned to triple torment — 
Plunge headlong in a pit of hissing adders — * 
Ere thou shouldst come to grief through Hako's 

act, 
Or draw upon thee his disastrous fate. — 
Yet have thy will. 



♦The fate of King Lodbrog. 
75 



The Faithless Favorite. ' Act II, 

[Here love's amenities. — RODA gathers up her 
jewels. — Suddenly she screams and points in 
terror — REDWALD appears, walking about 
in the moonlight at a little distance. At the 
sound of RODA'S voice he disappears. 
HAKO ito his feet) 

What mad fright is this? — Thou tremblest. 
RODA. 

Oh! — didst not see it? 
HAKO. 
See it? — See what? (aside) Hath she caught my 
rogues' superstition through contagion o' these 
clothes? (aloud angrily) Hal — trifle not with 
me, jade! — 'Tis some lover of thine come un- 
timely upon the scene — thou tremblest for his 
safety. 
RODA. 

There, there! [REDWALD re-appears. 

HAKO (subdued) 
Now truly I see it — man or specter, it walks visi- 
bly before these eyes. Hist! — be silent: — this 
shall arbitrate 'twixt spirit and matter. 

[Unslings his bow. 
RODA. 

See, see! He throws up his hands beseechingly, 
and now drops on his knees, groveling in the 
turf. Hold, hold! 
HAKO. 
He turns his face hitherward (drops his how in 

astonishment). 
Now, by thy disordered wits! — what brings thee 
to this spot? — 'Tis the mad youth that escaped 
us. [Exit RED. 

76 



Scene VII. The Faithless Favorite. 

RODA. 

He's gone! 
HAKO. 

He'll run faster then. [Exit. Manet RODA. 



ACT II, SCENE VII.— The same. 

Enter OSBURGA and the OLD SAXON by an- 
other way, bearing in ROWENA. 

OSBURGA. 
Our weary journey finds its welcome end. 
Heigh-ho, heigh-ho! — 

How many troubles one day may bring forth! 
Old man, thou shalt not leave us, — be persuaded : 
Recruited the rabble will return, 
And tumble down thy hut about thy ears; — 
'Tis no safe lodge. — Hah, — what stands yonder? 
Thou, Roda? — ^Oh! — get thee in, my child. 
And swiftly spread, with careful hands, a couch 
Of softest down where no rude breath may blow 
In wanton play upon these ivory temples — 
Building a fire fed with odorous woods, 
That she may wake i' the glow and cheerful 

light:— 
Poor girl, she's chill and numb with the night air. 
Nay, dost thou hear? — no words, — obey, obey! 

[Exit RODA. 

OLD SAX. 
Thank God, she's past her sufferings! 
But she keeps strangely silent. 

[Bending over ROWENA, she groans. 

OSB. 
Her groans do mock thy words. — In, in! 

77 



The Faithless Favorite. Act II, 

Oh! — what can men know of a woman's suffer- 
ings? [Exeunt with ROWENA into the cave. 
Enter HAKO. 

HAKO. 
Gout seize his toes! — He hath evaded me, but no 
matter! — a score of hold lads escaped with me 
from Athelstan's vengeance shall look for him. 
— What, Roda, Roda! (culling) Why dost not 
answer? (calls again) Pooh! — she's in the cave. 
— To hide from a young man — what a strange 
thing in a modern maid! 
[He enters the cave. — Act and scene end. 



78 



ACT III. 



Act III. 

ACT III, SCENE I.— A highway leading to OLr 
GAR'S castle.— Twilight. 
Enter TWO PEASANTS with shovels. 

FIRST PEAS. 

Slack bridle, stray colt. — Good master Ina's son, 
that is set over the serfs, shows not his wonted 
diligence since the steward went hence with 
his lordship to tour the estates. But they re- 
turn to-day. 
SEC. PEAS, (fanning himself) 
The worse for us! — Went the Lady Elfrida with 
them, lug? 
FIRST PEAS. 
That did she: — she makes holiday o' these excur- 
sions. Oh! — for a pint — 

Enter HAKO and OUTLAWS armed. 
SEC. PEAS. 
Mercy, mercy! — Kind masters, what would ye? 

[Falls on his knees. 
FIRST PEAS, (ditto) 
O Lord! — These be masterless men — take my 
penny and welcome — (fum'bling) here 'tis. 
SBC. PEAS. 
My wages, too. (offering it) My poor children! 

[Bawls. 
HAKO. 
Stalwart dog that cowerest in terror, answer 
me! — Passed a cavalcade of nobles o'er this 
road on the way to Olgar's castle? 
SEC. PEAS. 
No, please your worship! — Not since sunrise, I'll 

81 



The Faithless Favorite. Act III, 

warrant your worship! — ^We have e'en ploughed 
in yon field since the first peep, may't like you. 

FIRST PEAS. 
Ere Job's coffin was set, great sir, truly. 

HAKO. 

Providentially they loiter, — if these lie not we 
are in time, (truculently) Oh! — that the mere 
ripping open of their hearts enabled me to 
tell't, — how gladly would I do it! 

AN OUTLAW. 
Hark! [A trumpet faintly heard. 

HAKO. 

They come, vengeance, — they come! — Ha — these 
— what shall be done with them? — but let our 
betters butcher swine — Leof, Rollo, Harold! — 
hither. Gag and bind the hinds with stout 
withes to some tree. Swiftly on your lives! 
(the PEAS, are hound) Now to the ambuscade: 
— and mark ye all! — ^^every man pick his target 
and shoot straight, (.aside) This shall find him 
— all shall perish lest he escape, (aloud) 
Lads! — if the owl hoot then only stay your 
hands; — if thrice, sling bow, draw blade, up 
and at them. 

[The OUTLAWS conceal themselves. — A horn 
heard all this time at intervals, approach- 
ing, — several now tlow in unison. — Then en- 
ter OLGAR, INA, ELFRIDA, ELFWINE, and 
a small retinue, to the sound of horns, laugh- 
ter and singing. The owl hoots as they ap- 
pear, — then again, thrice in succession: — at 
the signal the OUTLAWS rush forth and sur- 

82 



Scene I. The Faithless Favorite. 

round OLGAR'S party. — The women shriek, 
and some of the train attempt resistance, 
tut are promptly subdued. 

HAKO (aside Utterly) 
'Tis not the train described. — 
Springed ever fowler's net the culprit bird? — 
Spread for the daw the finch walks i' the mesh, 
But vain our cunning when the finch we seek — 
And vice-versa, (cries aloud) Here's rich booty, 

ho! 
Rifle them, rogues, and spare not, — then away. 
[Seats himself moodily on a stone. 
OLGAR (haughtily) 

Fellow! — thou seem'st the captain of this band-^ 
BLFRIDA (interrupting with a cry) 
Rude robber, nay! — thou shalt not, villain — 
Help ho! — my jewels — 

[Struggling with an OUTLAW attempting to 
despoil her. 

OLGAR. 
Furies and hell! — A slave's polluting touch 
Affront my daughter? — [Starts toward her. 

HAKO (blocking him) 
Imperious noble, pause! — Thou shalt have cause 

else 
To curse thy rashness. — 

[Detains OLGAR. — At this juncture another 
horn winds shrilly at a little distance. — The 
robbers, startled, drop their prey for a mo- 
ment, — whereupon the Earl, nobles and at- 
tendants take advantage of the interruption 
and attack them, — the ladies in the party 

83 



The Faithless Favorite. Act III, 

fleeing to the woods on one side of the high- 
way. A desperate hand-to-hand conflict en- 
sues: — HAKO attacks OLGAR, hut old INA, 
the steward, throws himself in front of his 
master and is mortally wounded — he falls 
unobserved to one side. Suddenly loud 
shouting and clattering of hoofs is heard: — 
then enter ATHELWOLD, ALFRED, OFFA 
and retinue, dismounting and attacking the 
OUTLAWS from all sides.— The priest OFFA 
pitches on HAKO and tears him from OL- 
GAR, who is hard pressed. — The OUTLAWS 
resist valiantly for a while, "but being out- 
numbered, soon break and flee — HAKO being 
the last to go. 
OLGAR (loftily) 
Noble and valorous friends! — pursue them not. — 
The law-contemning rout is foiled and van- 
quished, 
Thanks to your succoring arms, and 'tis enough : • 
Who needless hazard runs dotes on his heir. 
But clogs encomium's mouth with dubious mat- 
ter, (a scream comes from the looods) 
My God! — .what cry was that? — Hear, hear! 

{other cries) 
Oh! — 'tis her voice — my child, my child, my 

child! — 
O fatal, fatal sense of false security! 
Help, nobles, help! 

New danger threatens, instant and extreme. 
ATHELW. 
Ho! — A sally, a sally! 

[Rushes out, followed by all save OFFA. 

84 



Scene I. The Faithless Favorite. 

OFFA (after a pause) 
Kind meddler, Chance! — how hrought'st thou this 

to pass? 
The Earl himself! — as yet he knows me not — 
But, mass! — I need not fear — I've saved his 

life,— 
Ha, ha! — With proper emphasis I'll press that 

home, 
And it must somewhat boot in the deep tangle 
Which Off a must unravel. (Ustening, he laughs 

aloud) Bellow, bellow! — 
Some Roman* arm amain drags hence his daugh- 
ter, 
And loud he begs that late opposed pursuit. 
Marry! — a plain lesson in mut'bility: — 
Ere words half-uttered break the laggard lips 
Their import may be false to our changed pur- 
pose — 
So much are we the slaves of Circumstance, 
Impotent to forestall, control or change — 
With that, like shelving sands, each hour shift- 
ing. 
What lies there? 

[INA groans — OFFA goes over to him. 
INA (faintly) 

Sweet friend, a drop of water! 
OFFA (peering down at him) 
Off a, art thou awake? 

'Tis Ina — the steward Ina — Ina wounded — 
Ina! — Ina! — Ina! (slowly and with intense 
hatred) 



*Roman arm — i. e.^ an arm that rapes — an allusion to 
the Sabines. 

85 



The Faithless Favorite. Act III, 

And why not Ina near his master's person? 

List! — they return, (rearing up) No! — 'tis a dis- 
tant shout, 

And travels in pursuit. — ^We'll have ample leis- 
ure 

Here to despatch some business, steward Ina! — 

Faith! — yes, to close accounts, (laughs loudly) 
Hast fainted? (shakes INA) 

Dear comely steward, dost thou ken these fea- 
tures? (stoops) 

Feel here — thy murd'rous hand 'twas limned 
them thus, 

While thy old cheek's smooth as the silken beard 

Which covers it. — But soon, sweet Ina, 

The worms will wanton in't-^full soon, sweet 
steward. [He draws a dugger. 

INA. 
Help! Help! 

OFFA. 
Presently. 

Apprise me first, how fares thy youthful spouse,-- 
The tender sweetheart of thy dotage, she 
Whom others kiss and fondle? — Hist! 
I'll tell thee something. [Whispers to INA. 

INA. 

No, no, no, no! — Thy arts were vain — 
False, baffled villain, I believe thee not! 
Reeking with admonition, oft priests at heart 
Are black as Lucifer. — Thou com'st to murder 

me — (half-raising himself) 
Thy purpose well I know: — I prithee, strike! 
Thus I defy thee. [Spits in OFFA'S face. 

86 



Scene I. The Faithless Favoeite. 

OFFA (not heeding it) 
That was on a Monday. — I'll tell thee more. 

IWhispers again. 
INA (inarticulately) 

My — master? — O sweet saint in Heaven! — 

That thou wert quick, to brand this devil's lies. 

But she was pure — O! — she was pure. — Thou liest. 

Once more I bid thee strike. 
OFFA. 

Why, she did, she did!— Was't not I confessed 
her? 

She did and will again: — 'tis woman's nature. 
INA. 

There thou art foiled at least— she's dead and 

buried. 
What sound was that? — They come, thank God! 

— they come — 
My master?— No, no, no!— Help!— Help! 

[Sounds from a distance. 
OFFA. 
True, they come! 

Take thy quietus then and parley elsewhere;— 
Though fain I'd sit and watch thee slower die. 

[Stahs INA. 
INA (shrieks) 

Is there a God! [Dies. 

OFFA (contemplating the body) 
Thou canst look into that matter at thy leisure. 
Impious wretch!— Th' infidel's death comes time- 
ly— 
The fact is plain — his lordship must believe't 
An outlaw's hand hath slain him! — 

87 



The Faithless Favorite. Act III, 

And that 'twas God's own judgement he should 

perish, 
Needs not much eloquence t' impress upon him 
When all the rest escape. — But they approach. 

(sounds nearer) 
Methinks a gash or two came not amiss, 
To rivet credence to my desp'rate story. 
Let me play well my part — so— (scratches him- 
self). Man's a coin, 
With heads a fool, perdy, and tails a knave. 
And howsoe'er we roll, why, marry, look you. 
We needs must turn up one of these twain vis- 
ages : — 
Run what career one will, in his collisions 
With other men, these are the possibilities. 
I like not — heads! — What the devil's yonder? (in 
the act of seating himself he jumps up excit- 
edly) 
Offa, thou'rt lost! — Flee, flee!— Thou art undone! 
Two figures, grim and stark, 
Stand motionless as rooted to the ground, 
Their eyes in horror glued upon my face — 
Oh! — they have seen the deed, (he runs out but 

immediately re-enters) 
Hah — silent still? — Could I but muster courage !- 
No sound? — 'tis strange — ^belike they're not of 

earth! 
No move? (advancing) — Pah, pah! — Gird up thy 

loins, vile coward. 
And front them though it mean annihilation! 

(going over to the figures, he laughs hoarsely) 
Two peasants, bound and gagged — real outlaws' 
handiwork — 

88 



Scene II. The Faithless Favobite. 

O pallid fear! — no more. — But they know all! — 

All quotha? 

The problem's simple, — presto! — the solution. 

[Kills the FEASANTS,— then as OLGAR'S par- 
ty is aJ)OUt to re-enter he runs hurriedly over 
to where the first conflict occurred, and falls 
prone. — The curtain descends, hut almost 
immediately rises on the next scene. 



ACT III, SCENE II.— The same. 

Enter OLGAR, ATHELWOLD, ALFRED, EL- 
FRIDA, ELFWINE, etc. — Excited chatter 
marks this entry, with frequent O's and other 
feminine exclamations: — ELFRIDA and 
ELFWINE relating the episode. 

OLGAR. 
Ingratitude is monstrous in a man, 
But doubly hateful in the gentle sex, 
In whose quick-thrilling and responsive bosom 
Nature hath planted subt'ler sensibilities: — 
Those truly human qualities which vibrate 
Like an old viol, sweetly through life's discords; 
And she is false to all we love as woman 
Who 'gainst their influence steels her renegade 

breast. 
(to ELFR.) Hast thou no words to thank thy 

brave deliverer? — 
Thou pratest much but seem'st in this remiss. 

ATHELW. 
My lord, my lord! 

89 



The Faithless Favorite. Act III, 

ELF. (embarrassed) 
Sweet Heaven, 

Rain down thy choicest benisons on him! — 
On him — on all who dare heroic deeds. 

OLGAR. 

How thou dost stint thy words!— Tut, tut, — a 
penny 

Tossed to the cringing cripple at his gate 

Would earn him this — and more, and more, and 
more. 
ATHELW. 

Oh! — chide her not, since what the full heart 
feels 

The eye betrays^ — and youth is apt to read. 
ELFWINE (aside) 

Whoa, whoa! — conceit, I prithee: — woman's eyes 

Bear texts vain men mis-spell. 
ELF. 

What can I say! — Too noble and too kind! — 

Wear this — thou'It honor me. 

[Giving ATHELW. a token. 
ATHELW. 

The donor's image, dazzling and beautiful! 

Sweet lady, I thank thee. [Kissing the gem. 

OLGAR (abruptly) 

Where's Ina? — God grant he hath not perished! 
ATHELW. 

Where's Off a? [To his train. 

OLGAR. 

What OfCa?~The priest Offa?— Know ye him? 
ATHELW. 

Ask'st thou that? — He saved your lordship's life. 

90 



Scene II. The Faithless Pavoeite. 

OLGAR. 

Zounds! — was that Off a? — No. 
ALFRED. 

Truly it was! — A worthy man and valiant— 

These eyes too saw the deed. 
ELF. 

What black figure rises yonder? — Oh, oh! 

[OFFA comes painfully forward. 
OLGAR. 

'Tis he! — the very man — I recognize him: — 

When the fierce bandit's arm, uplift to strike. 

Was brushed aside this figure interposed. 

But Offa! — 

The lewd priest banished for atrocities — 

How reconcile him with a worthy deed? 

How, too, came he among ye? (turns to OPPA) 

Ungodly priest, didst thou indeed this service? 

Oh! — speak and lift the burden of my soul — 

Come, come! — deny it — there's a douceur for 
thee: {offering something) 

I would be grateful to a worthy man. 
OFFA (weeping) 

Oh, still deceit imposeth on good nature! 

Oh, still an old man's lies find ready credence! 

[Mutters prayers in tad Latin. 
OLGAR (roughly) 

Come thy ways, sir priest! — thy ways. 
ATHELW. 

Oh! — hear him patiently. 
OFFA (half aloud, as if to himself) 

No, no, no! — Sweet conscience, urge me not! 

O Jesu, spare me this most bitter trial! 

91 



The Faithless Favorite. Act III, 

Oh! — strike me dumb, or let me die this instant. 
That I may ne'er reveal his wickedness, (louder) 
O base, base, basest of men! 

{.More prayers in "bad Latin. 

OLGAR. 
Hypocrite, what hast thou to reveal? 
Whom canst thou term base? 

OFFA. 
Your lordship then suspects naught? — Tell me 

that — 
Ambushed so near thy castle — none suspected? 
No! 
'Twas but an accident, this ambuscade — not 

plotted 
By a fell traitor in your lordship's service — 
Purblind benevolence, how art thou deceived! 
None knew your lordship brought rich treasure 

home? {aside) 
His color changes — hah — most happy guess! 

OLGAR {aside) 
What bodes this? — Ina knew't, of all my train. 
And he alone, — who bear the chest, deceived 
At my instruction, deem old armor in't. {to AT- 
TENDANTS) 
Caitiffs! — where lies your burden? 

TWO ATTEND. 
Here, your lordship. 

OLGAR. 

Still guard it well, sith thus ye guard your lives. 
Who thy informer, priest? — Explain the mystery. 
Ho! — -Where's the steward? — Ina, stand forth! 

92 



Scene II. The Faithless Favorite. 

AN ATTEND, (from a distance) 
My Lord, my Lord! — He lies here foully mur- 
dered. 

ELF WINE. 
Horror, horror! 

ELF. 
Most bloody, ruthless deed! 

OLGAR (staggered) 
Ina lies dead?— Mine ancient steward dead? 

OFFA (quickly) 

But Olgar lives— Almighty God, thou reign'st! 

(to ATTEND.) 
Dotard! — thou found'st one corse— where are 

thine eyes? 
What's by yon gnarled oak? [Pointing. 

ATTEND, (running thither) 
Two peasants bound — alack! — two corpses 

rather — 
See, see, my lord!— Though bolt upright, both 

dead: — 
Walder and Scagg, methinks — (examining them) 

ay, ay— 
I knew them well. [Guts the bodies loose. 

OFFA (chanting) 
Power Supreme, that launched the universe. 
And pois'st it in thy palm—^ 
How wondrous are thy ways, 
Mysterious, awful and profound! — 
As these extinct attest 

Who, plotting treason to despoil their master, 
Condignly perished through their own designs: — 

93 



The Faithless Favorite. Act III, 

All in the midst of their dark plotting s over- 
thrown, 
As hy a thunder-clap; — and now exposed — 
A spectacle, though mean, of wrath divine — 
Their destined victim views unscathed and 

sound — 
Unscathed and sound since by Omnipotence 
guarded! lAll this on his knees. 

OLGAR. 
What means this ecstasy? — Thou movest me 

strangely. 
How came these by their death? 

OFFA (approaching OLGAR) 
Oh! — canst thou be so blind, too generous Earl, 
As not to fathom this same ambuscade? 
'Twas Ina plotted all, — and his accomplices — 
Poor hinds that led the outlaws to the spot — 
Conveniently detained, their service done — 
Thou seest: — by Ina slain to balk discovery 
When all miscarried and the robbers fled. 
How swift thereon, like echo to a shout, 
Vengeance recoiled on Ina! — ^Like a tiger 
New-caged, which dire mischance doth set at 

large. 
The raging chief returned, — 
His bloody choler fanned to frenzy's pitch 
When Ina bandied charge with counter-charge. 
Soon mutual curses brought the blade in play, 
With what result ye see: — this witnessed I, 
And overheard — the rest broached Ina's lips — 
Gasping repentance as his life-blood ebbed 
He told me all, then died unshrived and lost; 

94 



Scene II. The Faithless Favorite. 

For he, alas! — was excommunicate 
By Dunstan's mandate. [Produces a placard. 
OLGAR. 

Priest, is this true? — Before thy God, is't true? 
OFFA. 

So help me — Christ — it is. (twists in pain) Oh, 

for a vul'nary 
To ease these wounds! — I' faith, the savage varlet 
Aimed at thy heart, my lord, a trenchant blade! 
'Twas he, the very miscreant whom these arms. 
In broils ill-versed, plucked from your lordship's 

throat 
In the first brush, that later slew the steward. — 
Ah, gracious daughter, bless thee! 

[ELF. binds up his wounds. 
A NOBLE (rudely) 

Fables charm youth and specious tales gull 

women: — 
When what thou tell'st transpired where, priest, 
wast thou? 
OFFA. 

Sooth, by good hap 

Faint on the ground from loss of blood, in pain 

Helpless I lay and still. 

THE NOBLE (scornfully) 
Sooth, by good hap! 

OLGAR (reprovingly) 
Oft is suspicion cast on worthiest deeds 
By fools and knaves, in flippant slur and sneer, — 
But disingenuous doubts fly generous minds. 
'Tis by our conscience that we judge our kind. 
And what the knave knows of his peccant past 

95 



The Faithless Favorite. Act III, 

Breeds in his heart the fear of fraud and guile, 
Haunts his low thoughts and mars his views of 

men: 
And safely ye may deem this axiomatic — 
Thrice-false himself is he who all mistrusts. 

(turns to OFFA) 
Priest, I believe thee, — Olgar's eyes are opened — 
Thy Master's hand writes visibly and plain, — 

{crossing himself) 
Yea! — He hath stooped to vindicate his servant, 
Accused unjustly of an heinous deed: — 
She died that then accused thee, and now this! — 
Can cavilling doubt ask more convincing proof? 
Oh! — ^take these jewels, noble, wronged man. 
And say a mass for Olgar's criminal folly, (giv- 
ing presents) 
Soon rich rewards shall follow: — ^ha, thanes, hear 

me! (raising Ms hand) 
South from yon elm that tops the somber wood, 
A thousand acres stretch of copse and plain — 
All these I dedicate and devote to God, 
As a memorial of a grateful heart; — 
A stately abbey soon shall grace the scene. 
And thou, good Offa, shalt be abbot certes, 
If influence can aught procure for merit. 
And meanwhile Olgar's castle is thy home. 
No words! (turns away) To horse, my lords, to 

horse! 
Day wanes apace. 

Lord Athelwold, thou'lt learn to know us better 
In mine own house — thou and thy knightly 

train — 
And Shalt relate at length, when leisure offers, 

96 



8cene III. The Faithless Favorite. 

How tkou didst chance to come so opportunely. 
What say'st, Elfrida — is he welcome there? 

ELF. 
Oh! — if his stay's proportioned to his welcome, 
His days are like to end there. 

ATHELW. 

Sweet doom! — sweet end! Yet, lady, I'd not 

die there. 
For, went thy guest to Heaven, 
He'd scarcely feel the joy of the transition! 

AN ATTEND, (as the party breaks up) 

What's to be done with yon carrion, good my 
lord? [Indicating the bodies. 

OLGAR (vehemently) 
Cast them on a dung-hill! 

Or in some ditch where stagnant waters mingle- 
There let them rot — perfidious, justly slain! 

ATHELW. (aside to OFFA.) 
Art satisfied? — Say, is my mission done? 

OFFA (aside) 
God bless thee! — 

Youth, it is — ^keep thine own counsel, sweet lord! 
I'll tell all in a cartel writ to Dunstan. 
[Exeunt omnes — horns blowing, nobles calling 
for their steeds, etc. 



ACT III, SCENE III.— An open tower on the battle- 
ments of OLGAR'S castle. — Midnight. — Music and 
sounds of revelry from the banquet-hall. — A sen- 
try making his rounds appears and disappears. 

Enter ATHELWOLD from below. 
97 



The Faithless Favorite. A.ct III, 

ATHELW. 
Here let me breathe — the revel's at its height — 
Blow on these temples, winds! (disJieveling his 

locks) — hah — ^how the music swells! 
And she — zounds! — fool, what dost thou here? — 

Back, back! 
Return apace and mar some coxcomb's bliss, 
Who throbs and tingles 'neath her favoring 

glance — {turns abruptly hut pauses) 
But no, no, no! — Thou'rt half distracted now — 
Unhappy Athelwold, what wouldst thou there? 
O King, King, King! — O fatuous King and blind! 
What evil genius bade thee send me hither. 
When any monk, soul-mummied, sere and cold. 
Had served the turn? (throws himself at length) 

Sweet lenitive midnight winds, 
From your cool caves waft Athelwold repose, — 
Flung on this flag supine, perchance I'll sleep. 
And so forget — the morrow soon will dawn. 
And then — ah! — then I'll fly the cursed place. 
And tell my Prince how wondrous, wondrous fair 

— {starts up) 
Oh! — should that huntsman dine who sends the 

hound 
An-hungered forth to fetch the leveret home? 
He hath done this — my soul's aflame with love, 
And I have never loved that deemed all lovely: — 
Near-glaring rush-lights quench the distant 

stars — 
So present counterfeits dim illustrious worth. 
So vile fruition mars the soul's ideals, {breaks 

into an apostrophe) 
O ye ages! O entombed time past record! 

98 



Scene III. The Faithless Favorite. 

O all ye climes where mortals toil and weep! 

O human heart! O virgin, dreaming 

With the first kiss still dewy on thy cheek! — 

Can any solve me this — How love is born? 

Love! — the prime impulse, the eternal bond 

Which welds and knits the brotherhood of man 

Into an harmonious world. 

Unutterably grand though various- working! — 

Under whose influence men approach high 

Heav'n, 
In god-like virtue and self-sacrifice. 
Yet oft out-vie e'en fiends in hellish deeds — 
As passion or the pure ideal prevails! 
Ay me! — (a noise helow) who comes? — The 

damned occasion — [Turns his back. 

Enter OFFA from l)elow. 

OFFA. 
My son, say, art thou ill? All marked thy exit, 
And she, the queen, the beauteous — ■ 

ATHELW. {turning on Mm savagely) 
Omen accursed! A palsy still thy tongue! 

OFFA {tranquilly) 
My lord, my lord! 

ATHELW. 

Well, what of her?— What of the Queen Elfrida? 
What dost thou know? — O subtle, subtle priest! 

OFFA {aside) 
This hath some meaning — Queen? — Hah — 
What if it be? 

The King's a gallant monarch — who more fair? 
{aloud) 

99 



The Faithless Favorite. Act III, 

My lord, I will retire — I fear thy anger. 
Heaven mend thee! [Going. 

ATHELW. 
Stay! 
What said she — what does she? — Looked she 

after me? 
Good father, answer! — Pardon these rude lips: 
Beshrew me, hut I meant not what I said. 

looming to OFF A. 
OFFA {coldly) 
Good night, my lord! [Descending. 

ATHELW. {clutching Mm) 
Peccavi, father! — Go not from me thus — 
Oh, I have need of ghostly counsel, father! — 
My thoughts malign urge on to wicked deeds. 

OFFA. 
Be hrief, my son: what hast thou to confess? 

ATHELW. 
Lies, lies! [Beating Ms "breast. 

OFFA. 
Peace! — thou wast born of woman. [Going. 

ATHELW, 
Oh! — ^their design is treason to my King. 

OFFA {stovs) 
How to thy King? — ^What trust hast to betray? 

ATHELW. 
Exceeding trust — his heart, his suit, his hopes! 

OFFA. 
Speak not in riddles: — Edgar acts through Dun- 
stan. 

100 



Scene III. The Faithless Favorite. 

ATHBLW. 
But this another kind of envoy fits: — 
Oh, list! — in brief, he means to wed Elfrida. 

OFFA. 
Wed, didst thou say — or bed, like other lemans? 
Cloisters themselves yield spoil for his amours. 

ATHELW. 
Wed as his Queen! — 'Tis therefore I am here — 
The other matter was a mere pretext: — 
She fills his heart whose face he ne'er beheld. 

OFFA (energetically) 
No, no! — 

I tell thee, no! — As well stretch forth thy palm, 
And when it rains bid all the drops fall in't. 
As bid an old volupt'ary love one woman: — 
Wand'ring desires burn on unchastened ever, 
And sure she's mad that trusts the rake's profes- 
sions, — 
Reforming — yea! — when impotent days draw 
nigh. 

ATHBLW. 
Hah! 

OFFA. 

Say not she fills his heart, thou simple boy. 
But say he lusts anew and seeks fruition. 
Like any dog. — Why dost thou gnash thy teeth? 

ATHELW. 
Thy words like daggers trench most bitter 
thoughts. 

OFFA {smiling) 
Ho! — is't not true, — thou lovest Elfrida, son? 
Combustible youth! — So soon? 

101 



The Faithless Favorite. Act Illy 

ATHELW. 
Alas! [He turns away. 

OFFA. 

Vv^hat man courts ruin where no prize doth 
tempt? 
ATHELW. 

Tempt! 
OFFA. 

Ill-starred is he whose rival wears a crown. 

ATHELW. (fiercely) 
He's but a man! — Mischance and death rule all! 

OFFA. 
Bold words! Bold heart! — God help thy master's 
suit. 

ATHELW. 
Ay, it is treason thus to speak my mind. 

OFFA. 
But none are privy to it — nor thy mission. 

ATHELW. 
Nay, nay! I have dissembled well and lied. 

OFFA. 
Thou art absolved: — who lies not when in love? 

ATHELW. 
Now, out on thee! — What canst thou know of 
love? 

OFFA. 
Heigh-ho, my lord! — Who hears the maid's la- 
ment? 

ATHELW. 
True, true! — Desire is fruitful In misdeeds. 

102 



Scene III. The Faithless Favobite. 

OFFA. 

Take twenty death-beds and confess them all, 
And of the score full nineteen sinned for love. 

ATHELW. 
Oh! — that strikes home — O faithless Athelwold! 
Ay me, ay me! — Passion, whither dost hale me? 

OFFA. 

Softly, softly! — What mem'ries prompt these 
words? 
ATHELW. 

A mortal sin rests heavy on my soul. 

OFFA (laughing) 

Nay, tell me no more — no more. Eh, boy, eh, boy! 

Thou lovedst some girl i' the wild way — what 
then? 

Moths that flutter round the flame of lech'ry 

Are oft consumed thereby — 'tis their own look- 
out. 

Come, come, descend and I'll give ear to it — 

See, we are not alone — be careful — so. 

Take counsel with thy friend when doubts op- 
press thee: 

Two heads will find a way in weightiest troubles. 

[They go down. 
Enter an OLD SENTRY. 

OLD SENTRY (sulkily) 
Ay, get ye down, wassailers, get ye down! Feast 
and drink your bellyful, and a bloody tormina 
to ye! As for me, tramp, tramp in a circle over 
your heads the livelong night, with never a 
drop of aqua vitae! — But scratch a blain, raise 
a botch, Ludovic: — he who pothers himself un- 

103 



The Faithless Favorite. Act III, 

duly over petty discomforts shall find them 
grow apace — so be content, {sings) 

^^Bury him, bury him, bury him deep! 
From Hell one mass his soul will keep." — 
The holy man looked stern — 
Quoth the widow gay, 
"Naught, naught I'll pay, — 
So let the goodman burn!" 

iExit SENTRY, humming. 



ACT III, SCENE IV.— Before a dung-hill.— RBD- 
WALD stands beside it with a bloody knife and 
. INA'S heart in his .hands. — The steward's body, 
bloated and disfigured, lies half exposed. 

RED. 
Poor Ina! — So 'tis, so 'tis — the sorcerer stole the 
ring and buried it in a heart — ha, ha! — in 
his heart, but Redwald finds it. (holding it up 
with insane gestures and grimaces of exultor 
tion) Sweet Elfrida! (turns abruptly) No, old 
friar o' the dung-hill! — thou liest, — I never 
murdered thee. Turn on thy side and sweat 
out thy dropsy, like Heraclitus.* Heraclitus, 
Heraclitus, Heraclitus! — the whole world's 
mad, Heraclitus. [Exit. 



•Heraclitus of Ephesus (535-475, B. C), the weeping 
philosopher, attacked with dropsy in his old age, asked 
the physicians in a riddle whether or not they could pro- 
duce a drought after wet weather. They not understand- 
ing him, the philosopher in disgust shut himself up in a 
stable for oxen, and covered himself with dung, hoping 
that the heat thereof might cause the water to evap- 
orate. It is needless to add that he died. 

104 



Scene V. The Faithless Favobite. 

ACT III, SCENE v.— The bower of ELFRIDA.— 
ATHELWOLD with ELFRIDA — ELFWINB a 
little aloof from them. 

ELF. (yawning) 
Heigh-ho! Elf wine, some music — 
Sing me a love-song, girl, — come. 

ATHELW. 
With thy leave, sweet lady — nay, but let me. 

[Takes an instrument and sings. 

SONG. 

From her ee "bright and tender 

Flashed a glance into mine, 
And the orVs ebon splendor 

Hath doomed me to pine. 
80 suddenly chanced it 

I knew not ^twas done, 
And time since enhanced it — 

Ache, heart, till she's won! 
Oh! I love her, I love her, 

This maiden divine, — 
And, by Jesu above her. 

Her bans shall be mine! 

ELF. (coquettishly) 
Pretty, pretty. Where learned you this bold song. 
My lord? 

ATHELW. {sighing) 
Thine eyes are black, lady. 

ELF. 
Indifferent black, my lord — now, Elfwine! 

[The maid plays and sings. 

105 



The Faithless Favorite. Act 111^ 

SONG. 

His soft phrases won her, 

And now she's undone: 
Forsaken, all shun her — 

She's lost, and for one 
Whose false vows another 

Hears breathed in her ear — 
Oh, why did her mother 

Not strangle her dear! 
Beware then, maiden! — 

Who tempts thee destroys, 
And oft poison-laden 

Are innocent joys. 

[ELF. joins in the last lines. 

ELF. 
Alack, what frowns, my lord! — The song dis- 
pleases? 

ATHELW. 

No, no! Her voice is shrill — too high, too thin. 
Good Heavens! I hate a thin and squeaky treble! 
[With unnecessary vehemence, turning away. 

ELF. (laughing) 
There Elf wine! 

ELPWINE (with a toss) 
Oh, madam! — 
Pardon me, ah — why — ^humph — indeed! (checks 

herself) 
I'll go feed the throstle, with your leave: 
Poor hird, unpreened it languishes without. 

(aside) 

106 



Scene V. The Faithless Favorite. 

Ill fortune blight thy hopes, thou saucy thane! 

ELF. 
Go, girl. [Exit ELFWINE. 

ATHELW. 
It must be, must, must, must! Down treason, 

down! 
He's mad who knows his fate yet moves contrary. 

{aloud abruptly) 
Lady! The King — [Stops confusedly. 

ELF. (demurely) 
Hunts wolves, my lord? 

ATHELW. 
What art thou saying? — When last I saw the 

King 
'Twas — 'twas — • 

ELF. 
At court, my lord? 

ATHELW. (with a violent effort) 

I am charged to tell ye that the King — 
The King, dost understand? — the King himself! — 

[Impressively. 

ELF. (gayly) 
Gets drunk, my lord? 

ATHELW. (aside) 

She will not understand! Or is't pure levity 
So aptly foils my speech? — Now, on my soul! 
I'll take another tack — priest, speed thy counsel! 

(kneels) 
O lady, canst thou love? 

[Passionately seizing ELFRIDA'S hands. 

107 



The Faithless Favoeite. Act III, 

ELF. 

My lord, thou dost presume. Ho, Elfwine, Elf- 
wine! [ATHELW. rises and turns away. 
Re-enter ELFWINE. 
ELFWINE. 
Madam, your pleasure? 

ELF. (agitated — plucking a flower) 
Why, indeed, Elfwine — I — did call thee — only — 

(brightening) 
Is the bird fed? 

There be some dainties I bespoke for him 
Of the page — (hesitating — glancing furtively at 
ATHELW.) Roger— thou know'st little Roger? 
Go fetch them, Elfwine. — ^Will you sit, my lord? 
[To ATHELW., who is going — he stops. 
ELFWINE (serenely) 

Roger is dead a twelvemonth, madam. 
ELF. (with a start) 

Dead didst thou say? — Indeed, ah! — very true — 
'Twas with these hands that I did plant the vio- 
lets 
Grow on his grave — how strange I could forget! 
Pshaw! — mischievous Hamnet was the page I 

meant, — 
Couldst thou not guess it? — But run away, girl — 
Go, find the thrush some chickweed. 

[Exit ELFWINE. — An outer door slams. EL- 
FRIDA takes up a piece of embroidery and 
fingers it nervously. 
ATHELW. (half audibly) 
How beautiful, how beautiful, how beautiful! 
None breathes beneath the wide, o'er-arching blue 

108 



Scene V. The Faithless Favorite. 

That's fair as she. 

Oh, there are flaws in inf'nite wisdom, God! 

Since Thou mad'st women beautiful, men weak— 

Or did the devil make ye. 

Ye sirens of the world type, fair, false, fickle? 

ELF. (looking up) 
Did you speak, my lord? 

ATHEL.W. 
Oh, that I durst! — A heart surcharged had ease 
then. 

ELF. {rallying him) 
Mine ears, what trick is this! — Or do I dream? 
Alas for idols! 

What, this a man, a thane, and say he durst not! 
What not? 

Daring is half the deed. Lord Athelwold, 
Whate'er the game— and all the credit, certes! 

ATHELW. 

Nay, is it so? — Then heart, up with a vengeance! 

[Seizes her in his arms. 
ELFRIDA (not angrily) 
Oh, fie, my lord!— fie, fie!— come, gently, thane! 
This is bucolic wooing — I protest — 
Indeed, indeed, I meant not to embolden thee! 

[Disengaging herself. 

ATHELW. 
I love thee from my soul, superb Elfrida! 

ELFRIDA (demurely) 
Why, that's the song— but dost thou so, in sooth? 
'Twas yesterday three nights agone we met. 
(a knock) 

109 



The Faithless Favoeite. Act III, 

Pshaw! — some one comes. [Aside. 

Re-enter ELFWINE. 
ELF WINE (smiling maliciously) 
Madam, his highness craves my lordship's pres- 
ence 
In the court below — to come without delay. 
ELF. 

Attend, my lord. 
ATHELW. 
O ill-timed summons! — Pregnant with what mis- 
chief? 
But I'll hold parley with thy father, lady. 
About some other matters in the interim 
'Twixt this and our next meeting. 

ELF. (archly) 
Wilt thou so, indeed?— 
My father is impatient, good my lord. 

ATHELW. 

But thou! [Exit ATHELW. 

ELF. (flinging herself at length) 

Pm weary. Elf wine! Heigh-ho, — where's my mir- 
ror? 

How do I look to-day? — Fetch me that footstool! 

Twenty-one — ^two — ^three — pish ! — twenty-four — 
(counting) 

Why, he's the twenty-fourth declared this sum- 
mer! 

How think'st thou. Elf wine, shall I marry him? 

There is a boyish beauty in his face, — 

A bashful blush suffused his new-razed cheeks 

When he did speak of love-— and heaved such 
sighs! 

110 



Scene VI. The Faithless Favorite. 

Mentioning the King's name oft to conjure with, 
And grant assurance: — 'lack, poor simple fellow! 
What need of words? 

I grasped it all at once, — ^trust woman's instinct 
To guide her true in all pertains to men! — 
The King hath chosen me to be his bride — 
This Athelwold's, I mean — that would he tell me. 
To speed his suit — he hath a place at court — 
But how he stuttered in the declaration! 
Half choking with his croupy sentences 
When he would tell the King had played match- 
maker. 
But, faith! — I'm half inclined to take the favor- 
ite — 
Only he can't abide thy singing. Elf wine! (o 

knock) 
Oh! — he returns, (jumping up) Why, how now, 
Hamnet? 
Enter a PAGE. 

PAGE (excitedly) 
Lady Elfrida, there's a witch below! 
Will ye not see the witch? 

ELF. 
Where's my kerchief, Elf wine? — Gracious, child, 
Don't muss my hair! — Pull out that ringlet — so. 
Oh, if thou'rt fooling, rascal! (threatening 
PAGE) Come, Elf wine, follow! [Exeunt. 

ACT III, SCENE VI.— A court in OLGAR'S castle. 

Enter TWO SERVANTS, meeting. 
FIRST SERV. 
Who knocks without? 

Ill 



The Faithless Favorite. Act Illy 

SEC. SERV. 
One not related to wisdom — a woman. [Exit. 

Enter OSBURGA in altercation with another 
SERV. 

OSB. (railing) 
Marry, no — I must not provoke you! You were a 
soldier once, quotha? — ^A soldier, forsooth! — 
"What are soldiers? Idlers — ^vagabonds — drunk- 
ards! Zounds, sirs!— when they're not storming 
girls all they do is to lay siege to rum-casks. 
But you are a man and a soldier! — A man? — 
faugh! — Two-legged infection! Bray him with 
a pestle in a mortar, strain him, dry him, scat- 
ter his ashes on the four winds of Heaven — 
and wherever the least part of man falls there 
shall grow up nothing but sin, sin, sin! But I 
will see your master, mauger your soldiership 
— your master and his noble guests, sirrah, 
mind! [Seats herself. 

Re-enter SEC. SERV. with OLGAR. 

OLCAR. 

Where's the importunate crone? — How now, 
dame! What would ye? 

OSB. (courtesying) 

May't please your highness, I would see 

Your noblest guest. 
OLGAR. 

Lord Athelwold, thou mean'st? — Call him, fellow. 

[Exit SERV. 
OSB. (laughing) 

Marry, yes! — If that be his name, why, sooth! 

'Tis him I seek. 

112 



Scene VI. The Faithless Favorite. 

OLGAR. 
How? — Know'st thou not his name, yet must see 
him? 

OSB. (evasively) 
Why, is not his name Lord Athelwold, your 
grace? 

OLGAR. 

Thou had'st it from my lips — lo, he comes! 

Enter ATHELWOLD and several others, 

OSB. (loudly) 
Thelwy! Thelwy! Thelwy! 

ATHBLW. (angrily) 
Who calls me Thelwy? 

OSB. (aside) 

Thief! (aloud) 

Cry you mercy, good my Lord Athelwold? 

[Gourtesying. 
ATHELW. (to OLGAR) 

My lord, 'twas thou hespok'st attendance here — 

Pray, wherefore? [OLGAR points to OSB. 

OSB. (curtsying again) 
Oh, deem me not beneath your worship's notice! 
Thy words imply 't; but, handsome, high-born 

thane. 
All things that breathe are equal in their essence, 
Since all corrupt, corrupting or corruptible; — 
And those distinctions dear to human hearts — 
Fame, rank and fortune, in their several kinds,— 
Convulse the gods with laughter — 
As 'twould us, too, an some fantastic apes 
Bedecked in scarlet, green or azure coats, 

113 



The Faithless Favorite. Act III, 

Strutting about in pride and contumely. 
Urged themselves better for that specious reason 
Than humbler monkeys clad in natural brown. 
Therefore hear me! 

ATHBLW. 

How quick the low to brand impatience pride 
When their importunate suits annoy their bet- 
ters! 
Upon our time, God knows, they have no claim, 
Yet must we hear each Andrew, nolens volens. 
Bray his ill-timed, long-winded suit or plaint — 
Or else we're contumelious, (to OSB.) What's the 
business? 

OSB. 
A boon unto the dying. 

ATHBLW. 
What! — to ten thousand? 

OSB. (passionately) 

Oh, quibble not! Think of thine own death-bed! 
Be not obdurate — fear avenging fate. 
Oh, if thou dost refuse may devils mock thee 
In thine own agony! — And as thine eyes 
Slow glaze at length, urge thy descent to Hell 
With bitter curses and this just reproach: — 
Thou didst refuse compassion — be refused! 
Unhelpful to the dying — die thou hapless! 

ATHBLW. 
Thou tragic quean, what am I to do? 

OSB. 

Come with me to my cave, 

[A SBRV. whispers OLGAR, he ATHBLW. 

114 



Scene YI The Faithless Favorite. 

ATHELW. 
Why, art thou not a witch? 

OSB. {laughing disdainfully) 
Oh, courteous thane! 

I'm not age-burdened, toothless, bent or buckled— 
The classic ear-marks of the dubious character — 
As thou canst see, yet have the name of witch — 
God wot how won! 

And have been beaten, baited, tried with ordeals 
For crimes I've never dreamt of. Hear me, thane, 
And I'll narrate to thee a late adventure 
That is in point— oh, I'll be brief, my lord! — 
Turn not away impatient. In a village 
Near-by it chanced that, strolling forth at dusk 
Companioned by my daughter, in the way 
A puling child we met; and I, alack! 
Unwisely sympathetic, to console it 
Offered it sweet-meats — 

Where'pon the weanling boy in wanton terror 
O'er this old face and melancholic eye, 
Or garb bizarre, or other trivial thing. 
Ran screaming to its mother, chatt'ring wildly 
Of bugabos, hob-goblins and what not, 
And that same night — ^such are the tricks of fate. 
Officious still to plague us — 
O'er-fed, unpurged, coddled into distemper, 
As mothers wont — event how common, mark! — 
The child expired in spasms. 
Enter ELFRIDA, ELFWINE, PAGE and others. 

ATHELW. 
What's all this to the purpose? — 
Lord Olgar, prithee, bide one moment. 

[Turning to him. 
115 



The Faithless Favorite. Act III, 

OSB. 

Sootli, in popular clamor, good my lord, its death 

Lies at the "witcli's" door: — I was arraigned, 
troth, 

And tried, too — hut the good judge had discre- 
tion! — 

I'm somewhat poorer for't. — My lord attends 
still? 
ATHELW. {impatiently) 

Yes, yes! — ^but finish. Your lordship, pardon me 
— {to OLGAR) 

Pray, go not far : faith, I have themes of moment 

Demand deep conf'rence. Wilt thou grant it me? 
OLGAR. 

Certes, thane. 
OSB. {clutches ATHELW.) 

Against thy will thou'st heard an idle tale — 

The rest, young thane, thou know'st too — thine 
eyes v/itnessed it — 

Look not astonished — have I ta'en those eyes 

From the fair lady's face? I'll prod thy mem'ry: 

The murd'rous mob, all cowed and held at bay 

By one now dying — dost thou not remember? 
ATHELW. {cordially) 

Right well I do. Ah! — that was then thy daugh- 
ter? 

Intrepid girl! — And thou seek'st alms for her? 

There's for thee, too. {thrusting money on her) 
Good friends, be generous! 

Now, my Lord Olgar — an hour in privacy. 

[Would lead him away. 
OSB. {spurning the gift) 

Oh, not so fast! *Twas not thy gold I sought, 

116 



Scene YI. The Faithless Favorite. 

Nor Shalt thou thus dismiss me: 

She asks but once to look upon thy face — 

This — girl! — Thou save'dst her, as she did me. 

ATHELW. {with ill-grace) 
Well, well! — If that my lord will grant permis- 
sion. 
Abide thou here, and in an hour's time 
Mayhap I'll go with thee, for thy persistence. 

OLGAR. 

Let her remain; 'tis well. Come, thane! 

[Exeunt OLGAR and ATHELWOLD. 
OSB. {grimly) 
I thank ye, nobility! [Seats herself. 

ELFWINE {eagerly) 
Art really a witch? 

PAGE {eagerly) 
Where's thy besom? 

ELFWINE. 

Canst raise spirits? — No! 

ELFRIDA. 

Or read futures? 
PAGE. 
Do, if thou durst — and tell which lord my lady 
means to wed, anyway! There's a crown for 
thee. [Offering money. 

ELF. {"boxing Ms ears) 
And there's a mark for thee, malapert! 
I'll have thee whipped. 

[As they crowd round OSBURGA, all chatter- 
ing at the same time, the scene closes on 
them. 

117 



The Faithless Favorite. Act III, 

ACT III, SCENE VII. — OSBURGA'S cave.— 
ATHELWOLD and ROWENA there, he lying on 
the ground all amort — she standing over him 
with a child in her arms. 

ATHELW. 

Away, thou evil dream — away, away! 

[Buries his face in his hands. 
ROW. 

Pitiless monster! Perfidy incarnate! 

This, this — to me! [She weeps. 

ATHELW. 

Didst thou not lure me hither with a lie? 

O the damned witch! How cunningly she fabled! 

ROW. 
Unknown to me her Heav'n-inspired design. 
But dost thou talk of lies? O sweet babe, answer 

him! 
Look on this face — and darest thou talk of lies? 
Lo! — it is thine: — this eye, this brow, this lip 
All tell of lies and vows thou erstwhile utteredst, 
What time thou robb'dst me of mine innocence. 

(the child whines) 
Hush, hush, my babe! It is not thee I chide — 
Born like a rat in this dank, darksome cave. 
Thy father's noble — but who knows his fate? 
Alas! — thou hast no father, tender innocent: — 
Black looks, reproaches and half-uttered curses,- 
Thy mother's welcome, — what canst thou expect? 
Nor is't so many moons since last we parted, 
And then love's tenderness was in full gush — 
O Thelwy, Thelwy! — is then all forgotten? 

[Sinks down beside him in a paroxysm of grief. 

118 



Scene VII. The Faithless Favorite. 

ATHELW. (involuntarily fondling her) 
Oh, weep not, weep not! I too am miserable — 
Storm if thou wilt, but, prithee, dry thine eyes. 

ROW. 
Forlorn, the wretch abandoned to her grief 
This comfort finds— but men must chide who 

wrong: — 
Loth to behold the flow of chastening tears, 
Yet cheerful authors still of all our woe. 

ATHELW. 
How cam'st thou here, by all that's strange and 
wonderful? 

ROW. 
Thee seeking, by untimely misadventure. 

ATHELW. 
Thou had'st a home— say, why didst thou forsake 
it? 

ROW. 

Thou had'st a wife— say, why didst thou forsake 
her? 
ATHELW. 

Subjects obey when monarchs summon them 
ROW. 

But husbands too sometimes regard their vows! 
ATHELW. 

Couldst thou not trust me, waiting my return' 
ROW. 

How live?— -On roots and berries, air and sun- 
light? 
OtEer provision mad'st thou for me no^e. 
ATHELW. 

Oh!— youth's e'er negligent— charge not that a 
crime. 

119 



The Faithless Favorite. Act III, 

ROW. 

And yet 'tis murder when neglect costs life. 

ATHBLW. 

Thou liv'st — say then, whose life was jeopar- 
dized? 

ROW. 

Thy child's and mine: — like dogs are whelped, 
its birth. 

ATHELW. 

Oh, but 'tis strange! — 'Tis passing strange, all 
this! 

ROW. 

Strange things are wont to chance to maids, 
once married. 

ATHBLW. 
Zounds! There's a fardel of surprises too 
In store for men. 

ROW. 

All's well that leaves life! Take me to thy castle: 

ATHBLW. {frenzied) 

'Tis not my castle — 'tis not my castle — 'tis not 
my castle! 
ROW. 

Oh!— wilt thou not take me thither 

Where Osburga found thee? 
ATHBLW. 

I cannot, cannot! Never, never! 
ROW. 

O Thelwy, speak! Am I wedded to thee at all? 
ATHELW. 

God and my misery witness it! — thou art. 

120 



Scene VII. The Faithless Favorite. 

ROW. 
But wilt thou not take me with thee, heart-mate? 

ATHBLW. 
God! — no^ — anon, anon — not now, not now. 
Canst not understand? 

ROW. 
Thou mean'st never — thon mean'st never — 
Thou mean'st never! 

[Swoons — ATHBLWOLD catching the child, 
puts it on the ground and, standing over 
the twain, Mtterly soliloquizes: — 

ATHBLW. 
Now am I in the hell of mine own making. 
And bottomless seems th' abyss to my stunned 

soul. 
O villain, vers'tile villain! — what canst thou do? 
False to thy King, thy mistress and thy wife, 
False to thyself, thy conscience and thy God! — 
How walk'st erect, nor blush'st before the sun? 
No meaner thing than thee it warms that crawls! 

{the child cries — he takes it up) 
"Thy father's noble"— Oh, cruel mockery! 
There hangs no blacker felon on a gibbet 
This night in England. 

Oh! — she's too good, too tender, and too true 
To tell the tale — how mild her just reproaches! 

(he kisses the child and lays it down) 
Go, baffled passion! — quench thyself in rage, 
Or peter out in womanish complaint — 
Thy course is run, thou shalt seduce no more. 
Brought to full stop in evil, high career. 
Now outraged fate doth hale me to accompt 

121 



The Faithless Favorite. Act III, 

For my misdeeds, long-standing and accumula- 
ting. 
And will not be denied: — farewell, Elfrida! 
She's lost — the dearest object of desire! — 
Accursed priest! — ^but stop — this fault was ear- 
lier, — 
Thou canst on no one shift responsibility. 
Why did I leave her? — By my soul, I know not — 
But love will pall with too much tenderness, 
And stint of kiss means thrift of bliss to dames. 
Insensibly my absence was prolonged, 
Though ever planning, promising return, 
And this is now the fruit. — What will I do? 
Would that the priest were here! — the cloth's 

resourceful. 
Can I retrace my steps? Two hours ago 
Lord Olgar promised me Elfrida's hand — 
Hard, selfish heart! — hadst thou been soft and 

pitiful 
I had eschewed that pitfall: — now my sky 
Is black and lowering with disgrace and ruin — 
That sky that seemed so fair, Elfrida plighted — 
Stol'n from the King, — but, ah! — 'twas greater 

peril. 
Oh, I've been mad! — perchance kind angels guard 

me. 
Retreat's the remedy — 'tis in my power — 
Oh, brave confusion! Say, for the King thou 

woo'dst — 
Few words — oh! — very few, will serve the pur- 
pose, 
Agreeable, methinks, to Olgar's ears. 
This done, thou canst face Edgar without fear — 

122 



Scene YII. The Faithless Favorite. 

Thy Prince will scarce begrudge thee a few 

kisses. 
E'en learn he all — nor take thy heat amiss. 
Since thou canst swear 'twas but to prove her 

virtue. 
This course adopt or, if thou canst not, die! 
Rowena, dear Rowena, thou hast conquered. 

{kneeling) 
God! — she is gone — no, 'tis a woman's swoon — 
Her heart beats feebly. thou pallid form! 
I saw thee last all flushed with blooming life. 
And now how changed! — Christ knows her suf- 
ferings. 

Enter OSBURGA. 

OSB. 
What hast thou done, my lord — what hast thou 
done? [Hastening to the prostrate form. 

ATHELW. (roughly) 

Peace, crone! — She lives — she stirs and 'gins to 
wake. 

Oh, I must hence! — There's for her keep — (giv- 
ing money) more waits thee — 

Look well to her! — thou shalt lose naught by it. 

Full soon I'll send and take her hence — per- 
chance 

This eve. — Hark thou, give her this comfort. 

OSB. (clinging to him) 
Wilt thou indeed, my lord — wilt thou indeed? 

ATHELW. 

Oh, damn thee! 

[Shakes her off and exit. Scene ends. 

123 



The Faithless Favorite. Act III, 

ACT III, SCENE VIII.— A hall in OLGAR'S castle. 

Enter OFFA. 
OFFA. 
'Tis thus the matter stands: — he weds the wench, 
But Off a holds a mortgage on her dowry, {pulls 

forth a paver) 
Castles and lands all pledged and pawned — as 

earnest 
What money he could raise and jeweled trifles. 
He hath disgorged already, {pulls out jewels) 
All this for aiding his unlawful suit 
By counsel, hints, advice in the confessional, 
And other ways in which the priest's adept. 
Oh, my advancement's certain! 
Money's the pap our Holy Church waxed fat on,* 
And robbing priests are still her best loved 

sons: — 
See, Offa, see the stepping-stone to power! {pro- 
ducing money) 
Thou'rt abbot promised — zounds! — and why not 

bishop? 
Mass, Dunstan's shoes look not too big for me, 
Nor e'en's the cardinal's cap beyond my dreams! 
Olgar's estate's immense — oh! — 'twill not fail me 
Once Olgar's gone and Athelwold supreme: — 
The secret serves for all the future years — 



*The grants to Sylvester I by Constantiue the Great, — 
so bitterly inveighed against by Dante and other writers — 
were chiefly lands, not money, it is true ; but it is hardly 
presuming too much on poetic license to use the terms 
interchangeably. These grants are supposed to have been 
the foundation of the material prosperity of the papacy. 

Ah, Constant ine, of how much ill was cause 
Not thy conversion, but those rich domains 
That the first wealthy pope received of thee ! 

— Dante, trans, by Milton. (?) 

124 



Scene VIII. The Faithless Favorite. 

The thane becomes my bondsman once he's wed- 
ded, 
Nor shall he cheaply buy enfranchisement! 
The good Lord makes some tools for our advan^- 

tage: 
Blind rage, revenge, envy, hatred of kinsfolk, 
But chief, uxorious age and am'rous youth — 
Madness and dotage — where the wit's alien, 
The understanding blank. O classic tablet! 
Whose wax intrigue most loves to write its will 

in, 
I have thee to my liking: — Athelwold, 
Full of phlegm and innocence, all impulse 
And sensibility! — that's my tablet's name. 
He's done some cheating i' the game with girls. 
But that's his farthest reach in villainy: 
He is not bad — no! — youth's exuberant folly 
Froths in his heart and bubbles at his lips, 
But that's his sum of faults — to play the fool, 
As he doth now. — I'm half ashamed of him! — 
Faith, making him the chief tool o' my life-work 
Honors the boy too much,--but great dogs mouse! 
Ha, ha! — He must essay the villain's role 
While all unconsciously the villain's dupe, 
And madly bent upon his own designs. 
He'll but encompass mine. Still, the game's des- 
perate! 
Cozening the King may work somebody's ruin: — 
Hum — what of Off a? — Both wheels are in the 

mire. 
And, quotha, this will stick as well as t'other! 
Why, zounds, it may — still, OfEa's role's unknown, 

125 



The Faithless Favorite. Act III, 

And priestliood cloaks worse deeds. — Once the 

plot fails 
The novice will tell all? — That's a safe presump- 
tion! 
Ay, cowards drag destruction on themselves 
And all their friends, when reck'ning's day ar- 
rives. 
Blabbing dark plots to ears bent on their ruin, 
While a consistent villain damns his soul. 
And oft escapes while puzzled Justice falters. 
Menace lies there! — But I'll not pother further: 
There be twenty shifts will lie me out of it 
Should the worst come to the worst — so there's 
an end on't. 
Enter ATHELWOLD. 

ATHELW. 
Ha,— Offa. 

OFFA. 

And how is my dear young lord this evening? 

ATHELW. 

Why, Offa, well!— Plucked back from Heav'n's 
threshold, 
. And headlong plunged to hell — I'm very well! 

[Sinks on a stool. 
OFFA {staring) 

How, what? — Thou art merry, my lord. 
ATHELW. 

Hah? 
OFFA. 

Thou'rt merry. 
ATHELW. 

Why, so I am, good Offa, so I am, — 

126 



Scene YIII. The Faithless Pavoeite. 

I had forgot that — ha, ha, ha! 

Right merry, like the wretch in middle air 

Hung at a rope's end — when he dances. Off a! 

OPFA {clutching ATHELW.) 
Hah — it goes awry then? — no! 

ATHELW. 
Awry? — No, no! All's fair and straight now, 

Offa, 
Though much awry this morn. 
OFFA {aside) 

Curse his reserve! {aloud) And why such empha- 
sis 
On "fair and straight now," son? 

ATHELW. 
Nay, art at fault for once, old subtlety? 
Thou'rt wont to read men's minds with some 

precision, — 
Pray do so now. I go to Olgar {rising) 
To put the redeeming touch to a had business. 

OFFA {embracing Mm) 
O sweet, candid youth, why act'st so strangely? 
Come, put thy trust in me — come, tell me all. 
Say, what's amiss? — Offa will remedy it. 
Thou art not well, — oh, there's a wild abstraction 
In thy wide-opened eye: — thou art not well — 
Go sleep, my lord, go sleep, — do, good my lord! 

ATHELW. 
Oh, thy advice was damnable, most damnable! 
I'll heed thee nevermore. 

[TJirows his clock from him, and sinks on the 
stool again. 

127 



The Faithless Favorite. Act III, 

OFF A (aside) 
Now out it comes! (aloud) Alas, injurious youth! 
Explain thyself: — wherein have I offended? 
Affectionate and sedulous to serve thee, 
Perchance I've erred — hut say, where lies the 
fault? 
ATHELW. 
Therein that thou hast brought my head in jeop- 
ardy! 

OFFA (with exquisite irony) 
I? 

ATHELW. 
Thou hast, and eke thine own — when vengeance 

strikes 
Think'st to be guiltless? — He must hang with the 

thief 
Who counseled the theft, good Off a! 

OFFA (aside) 
He's mad who leagues himself with weak allies, 
For good or ill — destruction yawns for him! 
I now could moralize longer on't. (aloud disdain- 
fully) 
Get thee to th' apothecary, — take physic. 
Do, my son: — may-apple and gamboge — 
ATHELW. 

Dost thou well to mock me, being undone? 
OFFA. 

Go to. — Wilt still jest with a grave face, strip- 
ling? 
ATHELW. 

Oh! — know all, then: she lives — the marplot's 
near — 

128 



Scene VIII. The Faithless Favorite. 

Now scratcli, diplomacy! 

OFFA. 
Rowena? 

ATHELW. 
Rowena. 

OFFA. 

Biabolus! — How know'st thou this? 
Speak, cunctator! 

ATHELW. 

Nay, wak'st up? — ^We have the witch to thank 
for't. 

OFFA. 
What, she's in that cave? — Accursed heathen! 
So near? 

ATHELW. 
There she abides with my half-naked babe, — 
Scarce a league hence. 

OFFA. 
Babe, babe? — ^Thou told'st me naught of babes. 

ATHELW. 

It blessed th' interim since I saw her last. 

OFFA. 
"Blessed?" 

Oh, little, golden-haired blossom of lech'ry! — 
'Tis bad, oh, bad! Babes are potent appeals 
For sympathy, once such matters come to light. 

ATHELW. 

And come to light this shall: — I'll make atone- 
ment, 
Be what the outcome may — adieu Blfrida! 

129 



The Faithless Favorite, Act III, 

OFFA. 

So, chivalry? — 'Umph! — thy letter's gone. 

[Drums with indifference. 
ATHELW. 
Furies! — not that — my fate's not sealed yet? 

OFFA. 

Nay, 'tis thy happiness is confirmed, son. 

ATHELW. 

Irremeable step! — "What mad haste urged it? 

OFFA. 
Thy bidding, son — out on bad memories! 

ATHELW. 
O fatal lapse of thought! — How long? 

OFFA. 

Full six hours Alfred's gone. What! — thou 
knew'st it. 

ATHELW. 
True, true! What didst thou write? — A copy! 

OFFA. 
Here's one verbatim, {pulls out a paper and 
reads) 

admirable King, consummate in wisdom, 
prudence and foresight! — What unhappiness 
hath been diverted from Edgar's ted through 
sending nie hither! — She^s rich, "but the less 
said about her beauty the less disparagement. 
Alas, that your Grace should be so deceived! — 
80 dark, she's a. very blackamoor, and would 
lie like a bucket of pitch, or a shadow at high 
noon, in the lily-white sheets of the royal 
bridal couch. 

130 



Scene VIII. The Faithless Favorite. 

No! — let her wed S07ne thane of low degree, 
and compensate him with her wealth for her 
ugliness, hut never disgrace royalty. 

Thy Grace's sick but ever faithful 

Athelwold. 

[OFFA reads this with unction. 

ATHELW. 
That's penned e'en with the arch-fiend's bad facil- 
ity: 
Blacker lies ne'er villain writ on paper. 

OFFA. 

Well! — ^an thy babbling train keep still, what 

harm in't? 
Her beauty now hath bloomed some seasons, yet 
The King hath never seen her, nor may ever. 
What dost thou think?— Out with it! Nature 

breathes 
r the heat and angry motion of first thoughts: 
Unwise redaction robs them of their glow. 
And us of ardent impulse. 

ATHELW. 

Mine own lips must tell all: — honor and reason 
Alike impel to't. — O cruel ordeal! 

OFFA. 

Honor and reason? — ho, ho, ho! 

ATHELW. 
Why laugh'st? 

OFFA. 
Ho, ho, ho! Ha, ha, ha, ha! 

ATHELW. 

Thy laughter choke thee! 

131 



The Faithless Favorite. Act III^ 

OFFA. 

Ha, ha, ha! 

Why thou squash, thou veg'tal thing sans heart, 
sans liver, 

How can I help but laugh thee out o' count'- 
nance? 

He's a traitor to good sense 

Who, having understanding, doth not use it 

Throughout each brief, irrevocable hour: — 

What canst thou do? 

Wilt thou shrink back nov^r? — Dost thou tremble, 
boy. 

With the prize won arch-angels might contend 
for. 

Nor deem the price too great to forfeit Heav'n 

For such a bride as thou wilt bed to-morrow? 

Too late thy scruples, boy! — Humph! — hast had 
signs 

Or dreams, belike, to daunt thee? — A courageous 
heart 

Or bent on good or ill is its own oracle, 

And asks not dream or portent to succeed. 

Out on thee! — ^Fy! — Thy head is compromised. 

And for that matter mine, with nothing gained 

As yet: — hast more to risk, driving the business 

To its full brunt? — A girl is in the way? 

Then must she out of it — faith, that right speed- 
ily! 

But there thou err'dst, to marry such: ten thous- 
and 

Are every day enjoyed without the ceremony. 

Let her come forward!— 'tis with this we'll front 
her — 

132 



Scene VIII. The Faithless Favorite. 

She was thy plaything once but never wife; 
Let her prove priest and candle if she can! 
Else may we foist her on some other thane, 
Swearing the child's not thine: — and by the 

mass! 
When questions rise about a birth, believe me, 
It takes a Solomon to resolve the matter, — 
Wives are broad furrows strange birds oft drop 

seeds In, 
And worthless hedges there, as wise men know! 
How canst thou tell the child's thine own, my 

lord? 
How any man whilst highways lead to traveling? 

ATHELW. 
Hah! 

OFFA. 
Oh, she's no foil to our designs, believe me. 
If thou dost not give way to womanishness! 
Resolute men stretch to the full endeavor. 
And oft surpass their hopes.— A vaunt, base fears! 

ATHELW. 

Deep-tutored thou in harsh and heartless meas- 
ures! 
But, ah! relax thy brows— her case is desp'rate, — 
E'en nature's leagued against the helpless one: 
She's ill and like to perish in the cave. 

OFFA. 
*Umph! — ^true, death's a serviceable fellow. 
That she may! 

ATHELW. 

Oh! — she must thence, and that without delay: 
The beldam will come here, fail I to send for her. 

133 



The Faithless Favorite. Act III, 

OFFA. 
Tliat strikes a timely thought — didst promise it? 

ATHELW. 

To the old hag, ay, — and meant it truly. 
OFFA. 
Oh, excellent! — I'll thither in thy stead, 
And soon we'll have her buried — um — in a 

nunn'ry. 
Tush, tush! — The problem's solved: go, sleep in 

peace, 
And on the morrow wed Elfrida. 

ATHELW. 

Still sinks my heart with doubt and dark fore- 
bodings: — 
Come thou with me — we'll sift the matter fur- 
ther. [Going. 

OFFA (nudging Mm playfully) 

"Still sinks thy heart with doubt and dark fore- 
bodings?" 

Perhaps, my lord — who knows? — nay, I will 
say't!— 

Thy manhood 

Shrinks from the ordeal of the first embrace, 

Like my soft damsel wedded in her teens, — 

First waking to the sense of sex in tears 

"When lights go out and bridegroom courage rises. 

Nil desperando! 

I'll serve thee a decoction of repute 

Will last tile honey-moon — smil'st, doughty fel- 
low? 

I'll tell thee what it did to Lord Smallaxltree — 

[Exeunt, OFFA talking. 

134 



Scene IX. The Faithless Favoritje. 

ACT III, SCENE IX.— A chapel in OLGAR'S cas- 
tle. — Candles burning and the altar dressed for 
a wedding. 

Enter OFFA and a PRIEST, examining a casket. 

OFFA. 
Whence had'st it? 

PRIEST. 
He dropped it without — the poor, mad nobleman 
that created the disturbance. 

OFFA. 
Give it me, — I'll further examine it. 

PRIEST. 
And I'll go put on canonicals. lExit PRIEST. 

OFFA (sniffing) 

Some putrid thing's within it — (opening the 

casket) hah! — ^a heart, (taking it out) 
E\ill foul and rank — and by that token human. 
O curious cone! Intricate mechanism! — 
But soft! — I dream: — here's but an empty shell, 
Scarce a man's fist in bigness, in my hand, 
Its chambers, once quick-pulsing, void and still — 
Presenting naught to puzzle understanding. 
And art thou then the citadel of life, 
Frail and destructible thing? — Creation's plan 
Methinks deserved more pains! 
A child can read the mystery of the heart, 
Plucked from the bosom and anatomized: — 
Holes, pipes and caverns — why, 'tis plain enough 
The heart's — a pump. 

Maker! — ^^explain its workings in the living, — 
Till thou dost so wise men must grope in ign'- 
rance. 

135 



The Faithless Favorite. Act III, 

A thing like this beat once in Caesar's bosom, 
A thing like this joyed o'er Poppaea's* lusts, 
A thing like this moved Antigone to pity, 
A think like this owned too old Jezebel — 
Ambition, lust, self-sacrifice and murder! 
Are ye all here, tenants of emptiness? 

irreconcilable heart! 

Where's pride? — where's envy? — avarice? — civic 
hatreds? 

1 peer in vain, — thou'rt mute and giv'st no sign 
That these things be, though well the ravaged 

earth 
Avouch them real. — Here's a black, ugly clot, 
And there — what glitters i' the gory mesh, 
Seen through the wide-rent apex? Zounds! — a 

ring, {pulls it out) 
Nay, most excellent madman! — 
Thou kept'st a nasty pocket-book for thy jewels, 
Yet 'twas not done amiss. Prate nevermore 
That nothing good comes from the human heart. 
That breeding-place of treasons, lusts and mur- 
ders! — 
Here's proof to the contrary. Mass! — Fll almost 

rate 
The human heart higher than a young pig's, 
Which peasants stuff or stew for dinner. — 

Humph! 
That puts the question, how can I tell what this 

is? 
Can it be human? 



♦Messalina might serve better here, but the line un- 
fortunately admits only a name of three syllables ; — ^this, 
perhaps, is as good a reason as any other when it comes 
to a choice between two women. 

136 



8cene IX. The Faithless Favorite. 

As far as entrails go, cut open a pig 

And you will find a man, or wise men lie, 

And vice-versa. 

Marry, that's a rich morsel for moralizers! 

Let Plato and Diogenes canvas it: — {fie feigns 

two voices) 
How wondrous God hath made us! — 

Likewise pigs. 
With what precise, omniscient care and art! — 

Likewise pigs. 
How just the wise proportions! — 

Likewise pigs'. 
How delicate yet strong our vital organs! — 

Likewise pigs'. 
How true, how swift their functions and harmo- 
nious! — 

Likewise pigs\ 
How subtle all our instincts deep-engraven! — 

Likewise pigs'. 
How masterful our little lusts and appetites! — 

Likewise pigs'. 
How meekly we obey and lie down under them! — 

Likewise pigs. 
How admirably preserved the human species! — 

Likewise pig's. 
Y/ith what gusto men do their duty there! 

Likewise — sessa. 
And so on, (in prop, pers.) through all the great 
processes and phases of nature, — procreation, 
bearing, birth, being, dying, putrefying, and 
the last great change, the worm-eaten one, and 
transmutation into the original elements. — 
Wherein, throughout, we are in all respects a 

137 



The Faithless Favorite. Act III, 

close parallel to, and no better than swine. 
Nay, I defy any one to show proof in clear rea- 
son that our Maker lavishes, or ever lavished, 
more care on us than on the groveling species. 
La, why should he? — Pish! 

[Fings the heart in a corner and exit — with the 
ring and casket. 

Re-enter the PRIEST clad in full canonicals, — 
he takes his place on the altar. Choir-hoys 
and other attendants enter and take theirs. — 
Suitable music, gradually swelling. 

Enter OLGAR, the COUNTESS, ATHELWOLD, 
ELFRIDA, pages and attendants. They pro- 
ceed to the altar, and the PRIEST marries 
ATHELWOLD and ELFRIDA with the usual 
ceremonies, somewhat curtailed. — Then, after 
benediction, exeunt omnes — OFFA re-appear- 
ing on the altar us they withdraw: — as he' 
does so, with the choir-boys' chanting in the 
audience's ears, the curtain falls. 



138 



ACT IV. 



Act IV. 

ACT IV, SCENE I— Before OSBURGA'S cave. 

Enter RODA and HAKO. 
HAKO (limping) 
Let me lean on thee, girl. Art sure it was the 

mad youth? 

RODA. 
Do eyes see? Oh! — the rogue, to rob me of that 
ring. 
HAKO. 

Poor, moonstruck noble! He left thee something 
in recompense? 

RODA. 

Silver (producing it). I held up my hands in ter- 
ror at meeting him — straightway he, his eyes 
blazing like meteors, savagely seized me and 
tore the ring from my fingers. 'Twas in the 
lane two nights since — 

Enter OSBURGA. 
HAKO. 

Ah, dame! — How fares my sister? 
OSB. 

She's gone, alack! 

HAKO. 

Gone! Why dost thou sigh? — Gone whither? 

OSB. 
Oh, that I could answer thee! With a monk sent 
by Lord Athelwold she went joyfully hence, 
despite my entreaties, some hours ago. 

HAKO. 

Lord Athelwold! Who is Lord Athelwold? 

141 



The Faithless Favorite. Act IV, 

OSB. 
Thy honorable brother-in-law, forsooth! Must I 
catalogue to thee thy relations? 

HAKO. 

The devil! Thou didst discover him then at the 
castle? 

OSB. 
While thou lay'st perdue. But where wast thou? 
Thou look'st sickly, too. 
HAKO. 
Ask these wounds and let them answer thy re- 
proaches. 
OSB. 
Well! — thou art forsworn: — thou didst not kill 
him. 

HAKO (sternly) 
Woman! — vengeance deferred strikes with re- 
doubled force. 
OSB. 

Nay, renounce thy vow and be friends with thy 
new-found relation. — He takes thy sister home 
as his acknowledged wife, if the priest lied not. 
But they went a-foot — alack, she must be half 
dead ere this! 
HAKO. 
Why didst thou not accompany them to the cas- 
tle? 
OSB. 
He would none of me, that priest! Still, I fol- 
lowed at a little distance: — they took the oppo- 
site way, and then, alarmed, I hurried back 
purposing to look for thee. 

142 



^cene II. The Faithless Favorite. 

HAKO. 

What wouldst thou have me do? Suspect'st more 

deviltry? 
How looks the monk? 

OSB. 
Black, low-browed, sunken-eyed, drooped-looking 
and thought-worn— with a flaming cross scarred 
in either cheek, 

HAKO. 

Peace to thy fears! — An hour will find him. 
Were he as fleet as a deer he should be tracked 
to cover: — my followers are whole though I'm 
disabled. We will at least know whither they 
take her. 

IBtows a whistle: — several OUTLAWS in- 
stantly appear. As they enter the scene 
closes. 



ACT IV, SCENE II.— A cell in a monastery. — 
ROWENA asleep on the floor with her child in 
her arms. 

ROW. (dreaming) 

Rogue, rogue, begone! See, it is morning, 
Thelwy. 
[Murmuring this, she sits up and stares about 

her. 
Enter OFFA. 

OFFA. 

The foul fiend rules thy dreams too. Dost sin 
even being asleep? 

143 



The Faithless Favorite. Act IT, 

ROW. 
Rude monk, where bides my lord? He'll teach 
thee manners. 

OFFA. 
Marry, where thou canst never come — in Heaven. 

ROW. 

Why, thou blasphemous quibbler! — I mean my 

husband. [He laughs. 

OFFA. 

Him mean I, too— the fool that played the role. 

Hark!— the bell— [A hell tolls. 

ROW. 

Eternal tears! — it tolls for whom? — Not Thelwy! 
O gracious Heaven! — Thelwy is not dead? 
OFFA. 
He died yester-night : — poignant remorse for his 
misdeeds with thee killed him. 
ROW. 

My misdeeds, — mine? O cruel, cruel, cruel! 
OFFA. 
Thou art a stiff-necked, unrepentant sinner! He 
died broken and contrite in spirit: — wilt thou 
not down on thy knees and pray for mercy, 
too? 
ROW. (kneeling) 

Almighty God, have mercy on me, a sinner! I 
am a mortal and have need of prayers for 
every hour I breathe: — in ignorance, blinded 
with love, what have I done? 
OFFA. 
What thou'lt burn for. Didst not take holy vows 
and break them? 

144 



Scene II. The Faithless Favorite. 

ROW. 
The vows of the novice, ay — but for whom, for 
what broken! iShe weeps. 

OFFA. 
Arraign the dead fearlessly! Charge the whole 
fault to him silenced forever: — can tombstones 
answer lies? 
ROW. (clasping his knees) 
Monk! — monk! By thy God I adjure thee, tell 
me he lives. Then what thou wilt with me. 
OFFA. 
Ay, if Pharaoh's host lives! Art pale? — Here's 
drink to revive thee. 

[Offers a cup of wormwood. 
ROW. 
Thy draught's wormwood, — give me more of it! 
Oh, there's no bitterness now left in life for 
me! Prithee, where's his body? I'll go to him 
dead that cast me off living. 
OFFA. 

That thou shalt not. 
ROW. 

Not take the farewell look? 
OFFA. 

Pooh! 
ROW. 

In his own castle not view Thelwy's corpse? 
OFFA. 
Thy reason totters: — deem'st this place his cas- 
tle? 
ROW. 
True, it hath a more familiar look. Whither 
hast lured me? Is't not a nunnery? 

145 



The Faithless Favorite. Act lY, 

OFFA. 
Ay, — thou art come hither for penance. The 
good Abbess hath given thee o'er to me for 
punishment. 

ROW. 
Thou hast dealt treacherously by me, — oh, most 
treacherously! But, nunnery or castle, I'll 
view Thelwy's corse. See, I am calm. 

OFFA. 
Tut, his body's not here: — the bell tolled but a 
requiem for the dead. 

ROW. {frenzied) 

Juggling monk, thou liest! Away! — Unbar the 
door — away, away! Wouldst drive me mad? 

OFFA {shrugging his shoulders) 
That as it may be, — thou art to suffer somewhat 
for thy apostacy. Fool! — ^know'st thou not 
vengeance hath seized thee? Thou wilt never- 
more see the light of day: — thy name is rased 
from the records of men. Swallowed up in ob- 
livion thou, living, shalt be lost like a black 
plume dropped in the swift-flowing river at 
midnight. None shall learn thy fate, none 
pierce the living tomb wherein thou rott'st im- 
mured — none view thy form when dead. This 
comfort only hast thou: — ^thy days will not be 
many. Worn out with endless penances thou 
hastenest to thy end. But while thou liv'st thy 
whole commune shall be with remorse and bit- 
terness. Thus may the holy orders ever pun- 
ish their renegades! Amen! 

146 



Scene III. The Faithless Favorite. 

Now for harsh medicine: — thy obstructing body 
must suffer first, and, like a dog's malignity, 
sinful desires be driven out with blows. 

[He claps his hands.- 
Enter THREE MONKS with scourges. 
FIRST MONK {droning) 
To aid in the salvation of the back-slider the 
pious Abbess sends us. 
ROW. 

Father in Heaven, grant me speedy death! 
OFFA (aside) 
Amen! (aloud) Let the scorpions bite her! 

[ROWENA is stripped to the waist and dound 
to a pillar. Each MONK lashes her in turn, 
piously and. slowly repeating a verse fro'in 
Holy Scripttire as he does so. ROWENA soon 
swoons. 
OFFA. 
Enough for the nonce, — ^undo her bonds. Let her 
lie here without food or water twenty-four 
hours: — then shall we make more of her. 
FIRST MONK. 

Wilt thou leave her this devil's spawn. Abbot? 
OFFA. [Indicating the child. 

Till morning break, — then to some orphanage for 
bastards with it. Depart. 

[Exeunt OFFA and MONKS. 

ACT IV, SCENE III.— The same. 

Enter an OLD MONK. 
MONK. 
I will e'en baptize the infant as the Abbess bids, 

ay — and save the mother. Thirty years, thirty 

147 



The Faithless Favorite. Act TV, 

years dead, yet in this unfortunate she lives 
again, my long lost Rebecca. Oh, she shall not 
perish! Diabolical Off a, thou hast other de- 
signs here than churchly ones, I'll warrant. 
Daughter, dost hear? Drink of this, and with 
God's help thou shalt be far hence ere morning- 
light. Though the task be difficult yet will I 
consummate it. 

[As Ue kneels, pouring the liquor down ROWE- 
NA'S throat, the scene ends. 



ACT IV, SCENE IV.— Before OLGAR'S castle.— A 
hunting-party forming, — no'bles, foresters, steeds, 
dogs in leash, etc. — A random note from a horn 
heard at intervals, intermingling with the inter- 
mittent yelping of the hounds and neighing of 
horses. — Enter OLGAR: he speaks to divers no- 
bles, gives some commands to ATTENDANTS 
and re-enters the castle. — Now appears ATHEL- 
WOLD, magnificently attired: — after customary 
salutations and casual inquiries, handling a spear 
here, a "bow there, he too departs as he entered. 
As he makes his exit enter ROWENA disguised 
as a hoy, with her child concealed in a black 
cloth: — it is very early, and her point of entry is 
a little remote from the cortege of no'bles, and 
behind a clump of shrubbery. 

ROW. 
Day springs reluctant from the envious east, 
And here, methinks, I'll rest and con my beads. 

(she reclines and prays briefly) 
Not long unwimpling morn her welcome face 

148 



Scene IV. The Faithless Favoette. 

Hath shown, yet sweet-attuned the can'rous hum 
Rises from bird and insect choristers, — 
Or couched in leafy limb or mossy bower, — 
Nor lags the herald cock that earlier crows, 
Nor creeping thing by brook and marshy pond;— 
While honeysuckles and their kind now ope 
Their greedy mouths to catch the pearly dew. 
All nature wakes refreshed, but not so I: — 
Slow-paced, like night's long hours when mourn- 
ers weep, 
I've wandered, faint and sore, through wood and 

lane 
To come — I know not whither! — Yon's a pile 

(half rising) 
Stately and wide, of hosp'table aspect, 
And gathering in the court I now discern 
A knightly train, each moment waxing larger. 
Alack, this costume! 
Ere the day brightens I'll make bold t' accost 

them: 
They may direct my steps to what I seek,— 
Which found, I'll back and groan o'er penances 
In the old nunn'ry where my woes began — 
Asking but this— from life a swift deliv'rance. 

(she rises) 
In such a place as this my Thelwy dwelt, — 
Near such a place perchance I'll find his grave. — 
Ah me! 
The fatal weakness creeps o'er me again. 

IShe sinks down — the child cries, hounds tay, 
several young nohles come scurrying towards 
her. 

149 



The Faithless Pavokite. Act IV, 

FIRST NOBLE. 

Ha-ha! What dost thou here, boy? Up, up, up! 

[Pulling ROV/. 
SEC. NOBLE. 
Out with him, prowler! Pull him out, night- 
hawk! 
FIRST NOBLE. 
Come, mannikin, forward, forward! What's thy 
business here? 
THIRD NOBLE. 
A prize! A prize! 

[Runs Ms spear through the bundle enwrap- 
ping the infant, and dances a'bout with it 
dangling aloft. ROWENA shrieks and im- 
plores him to lower it, hut he pays no heed 
to her — the nohles shouting and cheering 
their fellow. Enter OLGAR at a distance. 

ROW. (frantic at length) 

Pestilent varlet, brav'st a mother's fury? 

Now, by Niobe's tears! — since deaf to prayers, 

Down, dog, to gaping hell! 

[Wrenches a spear from one of the nohles — 
now augmented — and runs the offender 
through: — he falls with the child on top of 
him. As the latter rolls off on the ground a 
great Dane leaps out, and catching the bun- 
dle in his teeth, circles round and round the 
enclosure. — ROWENA is seized hy the ex- 
cited nohles as she starts madly after the 
dog. — OLGAR shouts and heckons command- 
ingly, and she is dragged hefore him with 
little ceremony — the dog meanwhile still 

150 



Scene IV. The Faithless Favorite. 

running about, with young nohles pursuing 
him. 

Enter ATHELWOLD and ELFRIDA, from a 
side door. 

ELF. 
Alas, sweet lord, I'm loth to see thee go! 
Oh, be not vent'rous, love! — Nay, do not smile, — 
I had a dream last night weighs down my 

spirits — 
Ah me! — it was a most distressing vision: — 
Methought a bleeding heart was held in view, 
Plucked from a bosom that I deemed my lover's,- 
A pale corse lay near by it, cold and rigid — 
But as I stooped to scan the features better 
I woke, — to find my bridegroom bending o'er me. 
Doubtless I moaned out in mine anguished 

slumber? 

ATHELW. 
Thou didst indeed, my love! — ^Was that the rea- 
son? 
Oh! — ^rest thy fears: — mischievous fancy 
Doth conjure up a thousand horrent forms 
To daunt the tender, doting heart of woman. 
When she's in love. — Hark! — what mad commo- 

tiion! 
See how they press and throng about thy sire! 

ELF. 
Nay, where youth gathers what import hath 
clamor? 

iThey move forward: — as they do so, the great 
Dane, after a final turn or two, rushes dir 

151 



The Faithless Favorite. Act IV, 

rectly towards them and laps the child uu" 
harmed at ATHBLWOLD'S feet. 
ATHELW. {patting him) 
Good Stigo, brave Stigo! What hast thou brought 
me, Stigo? 
ELF. 
Zounds, my lord, look! — This is some scurvy 
knave's impertinent pleasantry. 
[ATHELWOLD takes up the child: — approach 
OLGAR, etc., with ROWBNA held captive. 
Seeing the child, she struggles hut is held 
fasf:— ATHELWOLD' S hack turned towards 
her. 
OLGAR. 
Here's a sad adventure! 
Dost know what thou hast done, boy? 
ROW. {calmly) 

Have I done murder? 
OLGAR. 

Nay, boy, not that: — sore wounded, he yet lives. 
ROW. 
"Boy, boy?" — ^Why dost thou call me boy? — 
Oh me! [Shrinks hack, recollecting. 

OLGAR. 
He weeps, — alas, he is but young! 
I pity him. 
A NOBLE. 
"Him, him," my lord? — Look! — the torn vest- 
ment — [ROWENA would pull it together. 
OLGAR. 
Hah, by my old eyes! — What sex art thou? — 
'Umph, 

152 



Scene IV. The Faithless Favorite. 

A duller pair might mark thy hips and bosom. 

ROW. 
That sex indeed that loves its young and dies 

for't. 
Oh, take me hence— to prison— anywhere! 

OLGAR. 

'Lack, if the child's thine own and thou woman, 
The brutal thane hath well deserved his fate. 
Oh! Woman's love, in all the deep heart bonds. 
Typifies that of ths great God who made us, 
In pure unselfishness and immortal vigor. 

Enter OFFA lehind. 

ROW. 
Oh, God in Heaven! — ^what do I see? 
Thelwy, Thelwy, Thelwy! 

Art thou alive?— Thank God, thank God, thank 
God! [Struggling desperately. 

OLGAR. 
Ha, ha, ha! — a merry situation. Lord Athelwold, 
thou hast her child, and she must play quits by 
claiming thee for it. It hath chanced before. 

ELF. 

Put down the brat, my lord! 

[ATHELWOLD does so and turns away. 

OFFA {pusJiing to the front briskly) 
What's the stir about? Ah! Meg, the mad nun, 
as I live. What dost thou here, Meg? 

[To ROWENA. 

ROW. 

Thou black devil in a monk's cowl, away! 
Detestable wretch, didst not say he died? 

153 



The Faithless Favorite. Act lY, 

OFFA. 

Mum, mum, girl, — come, go with me. 

\_Yery soothingly. 
ROW. 

Thelwy! — see, they hold me: — but why dost 
thou stand beside the fair lady, and not fly to 
my arms? [Stretches them out helplessly. 

OFFA. 

Most melancholy spectacle, — 0, most melancholy 
spectacle! 'Las, this is her wonted humor: — 
asking every nobleman she meets to come to 
her arms! Oh, that none had e'er obeyed the 
summons! Poor mad girl, thou hadst then 
not been in this state. 

ROW. {wildly) 

Thelwy, my dear husband, what is the mystery? 
O Thelwy, canst thou deny me? 

ELF. 

Scandalous creature! — ^Whom dost thou call hus- 
band? 

ROW. 

Him whom thou claspest by the hand, lady. 

ELF. 
Why, he is mine! 

ROW. 
Nay, he is mine. 

ELF. 

1 tell thee I was wedded to him yester-night. 

ROW. 

I yester-night a year ago. Oh, my presaging 
fears! [Weeps. 

154 



Scene IV. The Faithless Favorite. 

ELF. 

Outrageous!— What say'st to that, Lord "Thel- 
wy"? Thane, art thou tongue-tied? [To ATH. 

OFF A. 
O sweet Lady Blfrida,— O my good Lord Olgar, 
heed her not! Must I out with the whole mel- 
ancholy history?— A nun once, pure, devout— 
oh, what tears have I shed over her!— she was 
betrayed by one it behooves me not to name: — 
ye behold the fruit. Madness seized on her 
after the child's birth, and 'tis her peculiar de- 
lusion to claim every nevz-made bridegroom as 
her husband. Disguised as she now is ye may 
find her wandering from castle to castle, — as 
the moon fulls, my lord, as the moon fulls. 
(turns to ROW.) Come with me, Meg,— come, 
come, dear! Uncle Off a will take thee back to 
the old nunnery. Poor mad girl, come. 

IGoaxingly. 
' Enter REDWALD behind. 

ROW. 

Christ, since thou sufferedst was ever mortal de- 
nied and mocked like this?— Thelwy, Thelwy, 
come to me! See, the babe coos at thy knees 
— thy babe and mine. Wilt thou not have pity 
on it, owning thyself its father? Oh, speak, 
speak, speak! 

ELF. 

I echo that wild cry! What hast to say? 

[Turning imperiously to ATHELW. 
ATHELW. (clutching his throat) 

Hah? 

155 



The Faithless Favobite. Act IV, 

ELF. 
What hast thou to say? 

ATHELW. 
OGod! 

ELF. 
But what hast thou to say? 

ATHELW. 
I know her not. [Turns away. 

ROW. (more wildly) 
O speak! O speak! O speak! 
On thy words hang life and death — O life! 

RED. {thrusting forward and leering in her face) 
Pooh, pooh, pooh, pooh! 
Zoroaster laughed when he was born.* 

ROW. 

Oh, 'tis too much! Accumulating troubles, 
Break, break, break, my heart! 

[She collapses. — OFF A takes OLGAR aside and 
talks earnestly to him, pointing oft to RED- 
WALD. 

RED. 

Pooh, pooh, pooh, pooh! 

Death's the sole universal heirloom: — 

Earth's a wide death-bed; yea, its very crust 

The ashes of the holocaust of ages — 

Millions, millions, millions, millions — 

Soot and ashes, soot and ashes, soot and ashes — 

'Tis a shrewd guess we serve that end by living. 

Lo! — a babe, — the babe is born — ah! — see. 

Pretty, pretty thing, it wails, it cries, — 



♦This tradition of Zoroaster (or Zardusht) is men- 
tioned by Pliny, among other authors. 

156 



Scene IV. The Faithless FAvoRiTfi. 

No wonder I 

The sentence of death's been passed upon it. 

On it? — On you, on you, on you — on all! 

All, all condemned who breathe! — We're male- 
factors, 

With death-watch set, — ha, ha! — and each one 
wond'ring — 

At least the few that think! — 

Who next will be led forth, like in a plague. 

What, whimp'ring mortal, recks it, then, (taMng 
up the child) 

If thou die early or die late? 

To-day's as soft a couch as to-morrow. 

Oh, come the noble death! [Kisses and fondles it. 

OFF A (nudging OLGAR) 
See, see, see! 

OLGAR. 
Ay, the paternity's out, — ^both punished with 
madness, too. Retributive justice, what a fate! 
— Didst note his wise declamation? This is 
more like stage lunacy: — he begins to talk 
much and out of place. 

OFFA. 
Yea, and indeed shames us with his superior 
wisdom — the trick of the feigned character, not 
the true madman. Catch your lunatic in soli- 
tude if you would spy sure marks of his mal- 
ady: — ^this at least in the beginning, when it 
falls suddenly on undecayed faculties. In com- 
pany, ever conscious of observation, he is dis- 
creet, watchful and taciturn. Mark the girl — 
she does better. 

157 



The Faithless Favobite. Act IV, 

OLGAR. 

But this is mal-apropos, too. Carry them both 
within, and we will see what disposition may 
be made of the matter. 
OFFA. 
No other disposition, surely, my lord, than a 
mad-house for both of them! 
OLGAR. 

But art sure the girl's demented? 
OFFA (with conviction) 
Oh, she is mad, stark mad! — Let no man doubt 

it: — 
I've had her case passed on by some psychiaters. 
That are themselves half mad, and know the 
signs. 
OLGAR. 
Th' elect of the profession, eh, Offa?— Well, 
Away with them! 

[ROWENA and child are dome off, and RED- 
WALD seised and forced after them. 
OFFA. 

Where's my Lord Athelwold? [He comes forward. 
ELF. 

That's not the riddle! Where's Elfrida? 
OLGAR. 
What ask'st thou? Why stand'st thou with thy 
brows knit so unkindly, child? 
ELF. 

Quoth he "O God! " 
OFFA. 
Now, dost wonder at that, lady? I'll enlight 
thee: 

158 



8cene IV. The Faithless Favorite. 

A sudden, poignant pain- 
Seized on his reins, — sharper than Dunstan's 

pincers,* 
That tweaked the devil's nose and made him 

howl — 
That pain would make thee moan "O God" too, 

lady. 
O these banquets and wine! These banquets 

and wine! (turns to ATHBLWOLD) 
Did I not warn thee? Drink asparagus' juice — 

Cyathus vinarius ter in die post cih. — 
As I prescribed for thee some time ago, — 
Else groan thy days out with thy malady. 

ELF. (looking fixedly at ATHELW.) 
Quoth he "0 God!" 

OLGAR. 

No more of that! Hath not the excellent Off a 
explicated all? Prithee, in — we will know 
more presently. — Let the hounds be put to ken- 
nel: — we'll hunt another day, my lords. O 
human miseries — alas! [Exeunt omnes. 



*Dunstan — Abbot of Glastonbury, Archbishop of Can- 
terbury, Saint Dunstan. The exploits, tricks and super- 
stitions connected with this subtle prelate's name form a 
very edifying chapter in early English history. The ren- 
counter with the devil here adverted to presumably 
occurred in Dunstan's private stithy — the abbot divert- 
ing himself occasionally at the forge — where, after re- 
peated visits, the malicious fiend was one day taken una- 
wares, Dunstan catching his proboscis in a pair of red- 
hot pincers, and making him swear to never molest him 
again. The tradition runs, if I mistake not, that the 
father of lies kept his word. 

159 



The Faithless Favorite. Act IV, 

ACT IV, SCENE V.— A mad-house at midnight.— 
Out of impenetrable darkness comes a woman's 
voice: — ^ROWENA awaking, imagines herself in 
Hell 

ROW. 

God!— God!— God!— God!— Who else is nigh? 

'Tis dark, 'tis dark, 'tis dark — what place is this? 
(maniacs shriek) 

What place, my soul? — Convulsion, chaos and 
night! 

Oh, mercy, Christ! — Oh, mercy, mercy, mercy! 

O prayers, your offices! — Hark, they wail again,— 
(more tumult) 

The tenants of perdition welcome me. 

Hah, — door of torment, open! — Judged and 
damned. 

My prescient soul, I know I'm lost in Hell; — 

Roused from the mortal change which men call 
death, 

With the cold dew congealed upon my brow, 

Long slumbering, chill and numb I wake — in 
Hell. 

Ah, Christ! 

One sin hath dragged me down, — ^the sin of lov- 
ing: — 
God! Thou mad'st woman's heart — canst Thou 
condemn us? 

By thy fore-doom we love what Thou left'st faith- 
less — 

Fore-doomed for man, what means that but fore- 
damned? 

Thou mad'st all things, — didst Thou make tor- 
ment too 

160 



Scene Y. The Faithless Favorite. 

Our portion in two worlds? — Am I damned al- 
ready? 

Despair gives strength: — fore-damned, I'd face 
my Maker 

Rebellious like the first fell brood of Hell. 

Oh, there again! {renewed commotion — a child 
whines) Hark! — ears, what's human here? 
{silence) 

Naught comforts from the universal gloom, — 

The universe now night and my black soul, {the 
child cries) 

Hah! — is't an illusion? — Where art? — thou cry'st 
still— 

precious, precious, priceless consolation! {sohs) 
My babe — blessed sound! — mine innocent's 

voice — 
Oh, here, here, here! I have thee in my arms: — 
Nay, if thou'rt here thy mother's not in Hell, — 
'Tis all a dream, a phantasm wrought by terror; 
But oh, how real — how horribly, horribly real! 
All save the fiery couch and visible fiends, — 
Ah! conscience needs them not to make a hell. 
Mad phantasm, hence. — Alas! — where am I? 
My hands and limbs are free, — 'tis not a gaol; 

1 grope, and feel that cold stones wall me in: — 
Let me collect my thoughts — a potion given me 
As I lay faint, — no more can I remember. 

But ah! it dawns on me — they called me mad: 
Oh! I was not far wrong, — it is a hell — 
I'm in a mad-house. 

[Sounds of sodding mingle with the child's 
puling. — Scene ends. 



161 



The Faithless Favorite. Act IV, 

ACT IV, SCENE VI.— The same.— Moonlight illum- 
ines the cell now: — ROWBNA in a corner hud- 
dled up. 

A VOICE FROM THE WINDOW. 

Come to the casement, love; come to the case- 
ment, love — 
Come to the casement: — the fools left it un- 
barred. 
ROW. 

Who art thou? 
THE VOICE. 

Come to the casement, love; come to the case- 
ment, love — 
Come to the casement. — Nay, fear not. 
ROW. 

Again, who art thou? 
THE VOICE. 
Redwald, Redwald, Redwald. 
Enter REDWALD fro7n the window. 
ROW. 

Unhappy man, what dost thou here? . 
RED. 
What all do, — weep, weep, weep! 
Oh, I heard thee, — ^howl, howl, howl, ye demons! 

(noises) 
Locked up with madmen, I! — O outrage! — 
But an old vine hugs th' inhospitable walls, — 
Here's rope of twisted tendrils: — 
Thou art my sweetheart now, — come, fly v/ith me. 
ROW. 

I will, I will, I will! — O bless'd deliverancel 

[Exeunt through the window. 

162 



Scene VIII. The Faithless Favorite. 

ACT IV, SCENE VIL— Tlie same. 

Enter TWO KEEPERS with lanterns. 

FIRST KEEP. 
Take the brat from her; drag it from her arms, 

I say. 
'Twas Offa's peremptory order. 

SEC. KEEP. 

'Lack, where is she? — The cell's empty! 

FIRST KEEP. 

Empty, fool! — Lend me thy lantern. 
SEC. KEEP. 
Oh, she's gone! — ^See, the casement's drawn. I 
warned thee too, Gyves: — these old cells-^ 
FIRST KEEP. 
Rouse the head keeper, sirrah, instantly! 'Tis a 
long leap to the ground, — we may find her 
bones below. Oh, a pretty mess, truly! 

[Exeunt. 



ACT IV, SCENE VIII.— The woods adjoining. 

Enter REDWALD and ROWBNA. 
RED. 

I cut out his heart with this dagger! {showing 

one) 
Wilt thou be my love forever? 

ROW. 

O pity, pity! — Thou wouldst not murder me? 
RED. 

I'll fetch thee a hatful of dewberries and a gourd 
of spring-water an thou'lt say yes. Then we'll 

163 



The Faithless Favorite. Act IT, 

to the castle or cave, as thou listest, and drink 
mandragora. — No more o' the other one, — false, 
false, false! IHe sings. 

She is too fair to look at me — 

Beat away, heart! 
She is too fair to look at me, — 

Or say, is^t art? 
She is too fair to look at me, 
She is too young to learn of me. 
She is too wise to feel for me, — 

Ah! heat away, heart. 
ROW. 
Yes, then; oh, yes! 

RED. 

''Losel, losel" — / hear the woods groan, — 

When seven lie dead 

For one maid wed, 
Who wears the ring will claim his own. 

'Twas graven on that she gave me. the proph- 
ets! — the prophets! — the false preachers and 
prophets! [Exit. 

ROW. 

Life, fountain of wretchednes??, how thou in- 
toxicatest all that come to drink of thy waters! 
Miseries on miseries may overwhelm us, pov- 
erty famish, death confound, — yet, infatuate, 
the heart-sick mortal weeps on through count- 
less calamities, resigned or pusillanimous. 
Alas! — ^wherefore? O effluence of inscrutable 
deity, life! — what art thou, why art thou? The 
wise of all ages have asked this — asked all in 
vain. — Many, indeed, in dark dreams have 

164 



Scene VIII. The Faithless Favorite. 

grasped the bright nymph in the fountain: 
— ^but the elusive shape escapes the inprehen- 
sile fingers of matter, and the discovery on 
waking is only that of intellect's finity. But 
thou mother with the babe at thy breast!— ask 
not sacrilegiously why thou yet livest. (caress- 
mg it) Seduced, forsaken, conspired against 
unto deadly peril, I wander aimlessly through 
a dense wood, companioned by a madman: — 
forsaken, it may be, but not by God! He hath 
tempered the madman's frenzy,— my hero and 
protector, who useth me with noble, gallant 
gentleness. Yes! madmen, wild beasts, vipers, 
asps and scorpions are far less noxious than de- 
signing villains whose plans we may obstruct. 
— Oh, Heavens! 
Enter OFFA and KEEPERS with cudgels. 

OFFA. 
Here she is and all's well. But look out for 
t'other one:— he hath a dagger ta'en from the 
young goatherd we met i' the way. 

FIRST KEEP. 
Fear not, Lord Abbot. 

ROW. {wringing Iter hands) 

Now am I utterly undone and lost. Vile man! — 
wilt thou not slay me at once and be done with 
it? 

OFFA. 
Prithee lad, secure her mouth: — shall we be 
wounded with a two-edged sword? Oh, the 
tongue's a formidable thing in woman! 

[ROWENA is gagged and secured. 

165 



The Faithless Favorite. Act IV, 

Re-enter REDWALD with berries and flowers. 
RED. 
Ask unbidden guests? — Ha! — Murderers! Rav- 
ishers! 

[Whips out his dagger and stabs the nearest 
KEEPER, — the other dodges and IcnocJcs him 
senseless with his cudgel. 
FIRST KEEP. 

I bleed, father Abbot, I bleed! — Oh, oh! [Dies. 
CFFA. 
Fool! did I not warn thee? — Take thy medicine, 
— get hence. 
SEC. KEEP. 

The nobleman's dead too, — ^that's quits. 
OFFA. 
Tush, no, — ^thy blow cracked not his cranium: — 
seest blood ooze from his ears? He's but 
senseless. 
SEC. KEEP. 

Some one comes. 
OFFA. 

Drag the body i' the bushes. As for thee, {threat- 
ening ROW.) — oh, if thou so much as sighest! 
[They drag the body and ROW. to concealment. 
Enter THREE ROMANIES. 
FIRST ROM. (sings) 

Pitch thy camp in the woods, 
Steal other men's goods, 
And bask in the sun where it shines, oh! 
An idle life's merry. 
An honest contrary, — 
But seldom the Romany pines, oh! 

166 



Scene VlII. The Faithless Favorite. 

SEC. ROM. 
Rest we awhile. The game's all corralled at the 
rendezvous? 
THIRD ROM. 

All. 
FIRST ROM. 
Are the orders all supplied? Read me the chief 
consignments. 
THIRD ROM. (pulls out a paper and reads) 
Mem. — Three virgins for Mustapha Said at Ven- 
ice — dlue-eyed. 

Mem. — Ten do. for S P 's — straight-leg-. 

ged — to wash dishes. 

Mem. — A 'blonde for the old C 1 Luigo — not 

red-headed. 

Mem. — Two "boys for the A of Syracuse — 

must not have s th. 

Unintelligible scribble! — ^Read it thyself, {toss- 
ing paper to V other one) 
FIRST ROM. 

'Twill do! Wouldst show thy secrets to a finical 
' age? — We sail Tuesday week. 
Enter OFFA pulling in ROWENA. 
OFFA. 
Rinaldo, well met. What! — jump up and draw 
your poniards on a friend? Fy, fy! — sit ye 
down. What, sirs! I have business with ye. 
FIRST ROM. 
Ha, ha, ha! — ^Well met, monk. Rogues, sit as he 
bids ye, — be friends with my old crony, Offa. 
OFFA {to FIRST ROM.) 
Rinaldo, a word in private. iThey walk apart. 

167 



The Faithless Favorite. Act lY, 

SEC. ROM. 
My service to thee, fair leman. [Kisses ROW. 

THIRD ROM. 
Mine too, pudicity. {Ditto. 

SEC. ROM. (unmuftling ROW.) 
Didst ever see such a honeyfied mouth? 

{Kisses Tier again. 

THIRD ROM. 

Or such a waist? {Embraces ROWBNA. 

ROW. 

O shameless dogs! {Struggles hootlessly. 

FIRST ROM. {coming forward) 
Three or nothing. 

OFFA (following) 
Make it the half pound and take the child. 

FIRST ROM. 

Three or nothing! {Jingling money. 

OFFA. 

Thou art an avaricious hound! — But wilt sell 
her in Crete if I yield? 

FIRST ROM. 

Ay, or to a Genoese camp-follower. 
OFFA. 
Come then, we'll not haggle over the difference. 
But thou duist not cast dice for it, I'll be 
hound, Rinaldo. 
FIRST ROM. 
Agreed! 

{Pulls out dice; — they seat themselves apart 
and throw. 

168 



Scene VIII. The Faithless Pavobite. 

SEC. ROM. (opening ROWENA'S vest— she is 
still bound) 

Beautiful, beautiful! Does the cow give sweet 
milk, I wonder? 

THIRD ROM. 
Leave thy foolery: — see, our betters are busy. 
Come, girl, go with me. [Pulling ROWENA. 
SEC. ROM. 
The fellow's sublime! — Lucretia, come with me. 

[Pulling her another way. 
OFFA (contentiously) 

Seven! 
FIRST ROM. 

No. 
OFFA. 
Yes. 
FIRST ROM. 

No, I say! 
OFFA. 

Well, cast again, then. [Silence in that quarter. 
SEC. ROM. (quarreling) 

Wilt not wait, hah? — Away! 
ROW. 

O God!— this too? 
THIRD ROM. 
V/ait?— Not I, by Bacchus! 

[They struggle — ROWENA falls: — the twang 
of a tow is heard and an arrow transfixes 
the ROMANY last clutching ROWENA,— 
again, and the same thing happens to the 
other one. 
Enter HAKO and OUTLAWS. 

169 



The Faithless Favorite. Act IV, 

HAKO. 
At last! 

{Releases and embraces ROWENA. — OFFA 
and the FIRST ROMANY have been secured, 
and the SEC. KEEPER also 'brought in a 
captive. 
ROW. 

O my brother! — thou wilt not shed more blood? 
HAKO (sternly) 

Peace, as thou lovest me. 
ROW. 
Alack! — one lies bleeding in the thicket to whom 
I owe much. Oh, save Redwald, unhappy 
youth! 

{She runs to the thicTcet — REDWALD is 
brought in. 
HAKO. 
He lives. 

ROW. 

Thank God! At the risk of his life he befriended 
me. 

SEC. KEEP. 

Captain Outlaw, look you, I ask naught for my- 
self, but ye dragged me from the body of my 
friend: — rain or shine, in luck and out, yon 
carl and I have been comrades twenty years. 
Let me but put him in earth decently, and if 
thou wilt have it so take my life as fee for't 
and welcome. Comrades true, comrades ever. 

HAKO. 
For that speech thou hast thy liberty, true-heart,- 
Get thee gone with him. Come hither, my sister. 

170 



Scene VIII. The Faithless Favorite. 

[Exit SEC. KEEPER.— HAKO converses apart 
with ROW. 
OFF A. 
Now will she tell all, good, bad and indiff' rent: — 
Ay, like her incont'nent bladder, a woman's heart 
Must needs discharge its contents at short inter- 
vals! 
Well! — by naught elated and by naught cast 

down, 
A great soul holds aloof from circumstance. 

(HAKO advances) 
Robber! — what wouldst thou do with me? 

HAKO (calmly) 

Why, I mean to send thee back to Olgar's castle, 
But in an altered shape, I'll promise thee. 

(with fierce energy) 
A vow, a vow! — Thou mad'st a vow, my soul! 

[Exeunt OUTLAWS with their captives, ROW- 
ENA and REDWALD, leaving the bodies. 



171 



ACT y. 



Act V. 

ACT V, SCENE I.— A corridor in OLGAR'S castle. 

Enter ATHELWOLD and ALFRED meeting. 
ATHBLW. 

Thou here! 
ALP. 

Joy, Athelwold. [Embraces him. 

ATHELW. 

Didst see the King? — Thou art soon returned. 
ALP. 

No sooner than thou'lt be chidden roundly:-^ 

He comes hither. 
ATHELW. 

Comes! 
ALP. 

Dost start? — Ay, thou'rt caught in knavish 
tricks! 
ATHELW. 

The King comes? 
ALP. 

Humph! — The gay cavalier must wed in secret. 

Lest old friends sit at the wedding-f«ast with 
him, — 

Or didst thou fear my rivalship, belike, 

That I must pack away on a fool's errand? 

Pish! — why dost thou clutch my arm so? 

ATHELW. 
On thy soul's honor, no! — the King comes not? 

ALP. 

Yea. 
ATHELW. 

Nay! 

175 



The Faithless Favorite. Act Y, 

ALF. 
But yea! 

Couched in a casual word, I learned his purpose, 
Then stole away without his privity: — 
Methought to be beforehand with the badinage. 

ATHELW. 
Man, I'm undone! Where didst thou meet him? 

— True, 
Kings sometimes steal away, and in disguise 
Explore their realms, — though 'tis not Edgar's 

wont. 

ALF. 
There thou hast him: — on his way hitherward 
Disguised I met him, — scarce distant now ten 
leagues. 

ATHELW. 
Oh, oh, oh! 

ALF. 
He liked not thy message neither, I'll warrant 

thee: — 
He drew down his kingly brows and stamped his 

foot 
Whenas he read. — It touched the priest's affairs? 

ATHELW. 
Hah— Offa— true— OfEa! [Exit. 

ALF. 
Humph, humph! — ^He's in a singular humor: — 
I'll after him, 

And rally his bridegroom spleen into a frenzy. 

[Exit. 



176 



Scene II, The Faithless Favorite. . 

ACT V, SCENE II.— The bridal bower.— ELFRIDA 
in the act of retiring, partly disrohed, — BLF- 
WINB attending. 

ELF. 
Get thee gone, Elf wine, — my lord comes. 

[Exit ELFW. 
Enter ATHELWOLD hurriedly. 

ATHELW. 
Where's Off a? 

ELF. 
My love? 

ATHELW. 
Where's Offa?— Offa! 

ELF. 
Why, at his heads, belike— or should be, marry! 
What's that to thee?— Why ask'st thou after 

him? 
At this hour o' night, will not Elf rid do? 

[Coming to him. 

ATHELW. 
At his beads! 

[Exit. — ELFRIDA follows to the door hut 
turns hack impatiently. 

ELF. 
Oh, an unquiet conscience mars his peace 
Who thus abruptly starts and breaks ofE dis- 
course, 
Ere well he hath begun! — ^He acts most strange- 
ly:— 
His compliments have soured to gloomy looks, 
His gallantry's mildewed to melancholy, 

177 



The Faithless Favorite, Act V, 

His sighs are sorrow's own and not love's feign- 
ing. 
And oft he moans in's sleep. — He is not guiltless 
Who, so transformed, frowns out his honeymoon. 
Changed in the hour of fervor and delight 
As by an evil spell, to my affront. 
O jealousy! — build not too rash conjectures, 
E'en where thou hast good grounds: — he is not 

guiltless — 
Nay, but I'll probe proof well ere I condemn 

him, — 
I'll brook his bare, perfunct denials no longer. 
Re-enter ATHELWOLD. 

ATHELW. 

Where's Offa? — Dost thou not know? — ^Where's 
Offa! 

I've ranged through room and corridor since 
sundown, 

And none can tell: — ^the dull fools stare agape. 

Or shake their asinine heads. — O Offa, Offa! 
(flinging himself down) 

Were this place red Hell, 

Where thou art better known, I might be an- 
swered: — 

Being more concerned, the devil keeps better 
track 

Than we do of priests' movements, (thunder — 
he jumps up) Hark! Heav'n peals — (he goes 
to the casement and throws it open) 

Phew, — how it rains! — I should be gone ere this: 
— (turning awuy) 

There lies an ancient abbey close vicine, 



178 



Scene II. The Faithless Favorite, 

And he may be there now. — Good night, good 

night! (going) 
Perhaps the last! — but still, my sweet, good 

night; — 
I must, I will see Off a, — dastardly priest! 
Forsake me i' the pinch? [At the door. 

ELF. (embracing him) 
Thou Shalt not stir foot forth this evil night, — 
Elfrida wills it. 

ATHELW. 

Thou'rt Queen Absolute to my thoughts and ac- 
tions, 
And regent o' my dreams. 

Yet must not balk me now. — Oh! dost thou love 
me? [Seizes her in his arms. 

ELF. 

O my bosom! — 

To the last heart-throb, my sweet, gloomy thane. 

ATHELW. 
Oh, there's hope in that! — Can men believe ye? 

ELF. (sweetly) 

Come, put it to the proof — now down, suspicion! 
What was that girl to thee? 
ATHELW. (stares at her stupidly, then turns 
away) 
Gods! — What a dismal night! 

[To the window again, still open. 
ELF. (shutting it) 

Nay, let the tempest roar! — Tumults that rage 

within 
More wreck our peace. Prithee, begin confess- 
ing! 

179 



The Faithless Favobite. Act V, 

Thou ow'st me this, — a full and free recital: 
No less shall win forgiveness. 

[Leading him to a couch. 
ATHELW. (not looking at her) 

And must I tell thee all? 
ELF. 
All, all!— I'll love thee the better for it,— 
Thou hast evaded it too long already. 
Art not a man? — That word implies some faults, 
Some capers of excess the world terms gallant- 
ries. 
Which wives must needs o'er-look, else be be- 
reaved. 
Come now, the tale! — Unmoved I'll listen to thee. 

ATHELW. 
What woman hears unmoved a tale of perfidy? 

ELF. 
Who loves but pities where the world execrates. 

ATHELW. iin tears) 

Steeped to the eyelids in sweet womanliness 

Art thou, my bride! — I'll break thy gentle heart. 
ELF. 

Tell me! — thou canst see the priest anon. 
ATHELW. (rising abruptly) 

Why, I have naught to tell! — Live and be happy. 

[Exit. 
ELF. (stamping) 

Now, 'tis too much! — He scorns and mocks my 
tenderness, — 

Oh, I could choke with rage and self-disdain! 

I've cast myself away upon a villain, 

A dark, impenetrable, secretive villain, 

180 



Scene II. The Faithless Favorite. 

Self-locked, self-absolute, — 

The kind our sex most loathes — to smiles and 
tears 

Alike invulnerable — 
Re-enter ATHELWOLD with a sword. 
ATHELW. 

I am ready to die: — do thou take this blade. 

And promise me when thou begin'st to hate — 

Upon the spur of that same fatal moment — 

Thou'lt thrust me through, — and then I'll tell 
thee all. 
ELF. (laughingly) 

Thou wilt live long, that I'll promise thee. 

Was she fair in thine eyes, Athelwold? 
ATHELWOLD. (ahsently) 

As beautiful as ever dream or vision 

Portrayed to rapture. [Sighs. 

ELF. 

Oh, was she indeed, my lord! — Heigh-ho, — pish! 

The night lengthens — wilt thou soon have fin- 
ished? 
ATHELW. 

Thou ask'dst to see the house of my dead past. 

And wilt thou turn back at the vestibule? 
ELF. 

Humph! — I deemed her ugly in her boy's ap- 
parel: — 

How did she look in her own guise, prithee? 
ATHELW. 

Why, — I have forgotten — look? 
ELF. 

What! — and think so much of her, dear Athel- 
wold? [Inarming him. 

181 



The Faithless Favorite. Act V, 

ATHELW. 
Once she seemed fair, but now, — oh, now 'twere 

diff'rent! 
Who seeing thee can aught conceive of beauty 
Save what thou art or seem'st? 
Elfrida's face is fairer than Rowena's, 
Elfrida's form is rounder than Rowena's, 
Elfrida's voice is gentler than Rowena's, 
Elfrida's heart — oh! can that heart be kinder. 
Or more forgiving, constant, true or tender? 

[With emotion, averting his face. 

ELF. 
That soon I'll prove to thea: — proceed no fur- 
ther, — 
I do forgive thee all ere that thou ask'st it. 

ATHELW. 
Thou art not yet come to the mountain of my 
faults. 

ELF. 
How? — she was thy leman and the child's thy 
son! 

ATHELW. 

Quick Intuition marks a woman's mind. 

ELF. 

And knowing this, what more remains to tell? 
ATHELW. 

Thou wilt not pardon when thou hast learned all. 
ELF. 

He twice offends who proffered pardon cavils. 
ATHELW. 

Basely I betrayed her to her ruin. 

182 



Scene II. The Faithless Favorite. 

ELF. 
That oft hath chanced and will while maids trust 
men. 

ATHELW. 
Who thus can speak feels not her sex's wrongs. 

ELF. 
Pooh! — should I weep for a strange girl, I 
wonder? 

ATHELW. 
Not weep, yet feel: — ^and feeling thou must cen- 
sure. 

ELF. 
Thane, but I'm partial! — That's my woman's 
privilege. [Nestling up to Mm. 

ATHELW. 
Meaning thou lov'st me much, forgiving fair one? 

ELF. 
Men too sometimes grasp things without deep 
pond'ring! 

ATHELW. 
O King, thou com'st in vain! — True love scorns 
coronets. [Falls at her feet. 

ELF. 
What words low mutter'st thou with brow con- 
vulsed? 

ATHELW. 

Oh! — would'st lie in the King's bed at his bid- 
ding, say? 

ELF. 
'Sdeath! — To make wives harlots bait them with 
lewd jests. 

183 



The Faithless Favorite. Act V, 

ATHBLW. 

Nor said I this designing fresh afEront. 

ELF. 
And what hadst thou in mind, speaking outrage- 
ously? 
ATHELW. 
There was a maid once saved by a mother's 
ruse.* 
ELF. 

But there were remedies besides hand-maidens! t 
ATHELW. 
And what hadst thou done, say, on like compul- 
sion? 
ELF. 

A dagger plied at midnight had served the turn.J 
ATHBLW. 

O excellent courage! O sweet cheer and comfort! 
The nun Editha § too suffered foul wrong. 
ELF. 
Now, out on thee! — ^Why harp'st thou on old 
scandals? 

ATHELW. 

But many virgins more have fared as ill. 



*The daughter of the nobleman near Andover, whom 
Edgar demanded of her parents, like Pausanias did Cle- 
onice at Byzantium. 

tThe name of the handmaiden immolated to save the 
high-born girl's chastity was Blfleda — a name already 
referred to in these notes. 

JBlfrida's disposition to ply the dagger — through other 
hands, at least — was evinced in the fate of Edward the 
Martyr, slain some years later at her instigation, after 
she had born Ethelred to Edgar. 

§Edgar broke into a convent, carried off Editha, a nun, 
by force, and even committed violence on her person. — 
Hume. 

184 



Scene II. The Faithless Favorite. 

ELF. 
Have done! — Thy sex was never aught but disso- 
lute. 

ATHELW. 

Neither are young wives deemed insipid morsels. 

ELF. 
Man of strange moods! — comes the King hither, 
say? 

ATHELW. 
Thou hast guessed it! 

[Striding away in agitation, he knocks down a 
table and chair on which a rich dress re- 
poses. 

ELF. {wildly) 

O Heavens, my lord! — thy foot's on my new 
gown, — 

Oh, dear, dear, dear, dear! — In mercy, move not! 

Beseech thee, stir not! — ^thou wilt leave a rent 
else; 

Now raise thy foot, — oh, those lace tassels! 

Nay, gently, gently — patience! {she extricates it 
— instantly her mood changes) 

Thou clumsy fellow! — couldst not see it, say? 

My God, if thou hadst ruined it! — 

What had I worn at the grand feast to-morrow? 

I'm all a-tremble still and half distracted 

O'er the mere thought! — Canst only stand and 
stare? 

Thou dost not care — I see it in thy looks — 

Though, really, I believe the train's all crum- 
pled! [Down on her knees to examine it. 

185 



The Faithless Favorite. Act T, 

ATHELW. 
Hah, — look not for mercy here! — Rave o'er her 

robe, 
But coldly moralize o'er a girl's destruction! — 
Concerned no more than curiosity prompted. 
What's hers — ^^the least outvsreighs another's life! 
It comes in time. — O Night! where hidest thou 
Offa? [To the window again. 

ELF, (looking up) 
Sweet, honey love, if I should meet the King 
Dost think he'd really like me? — Oh, grant he 

may! 
I'll use him as ne'er man was used by woman, 
I'll purge him of his gallant disposition, 
I'll bring him to my feet with coy demureness, — 
There kill him with disdain. 

[Busy still with the dress. 
ATHELW. 
Hah — wouldst thou? — It breeds already! 
Here's that old presumption which fills brothels. 
ELF. (getting up at length) 
How do I look, my love? — Does it become me? 
[Flings the gown sparkling with jewels over 
her person and poses "before him. 
ATHELW. 

Thou look'st the Queen thou art, or rightly 

should'st be. 
O fool, fool, fool, fool! 

[Exit with gestures of despair. — ELFRIDA 
looks after him wonderingly, then sinks in a 
chair buried in thought. Presently, with a 
toss of her unbound hair and a light laugh, 
she goes to bed — which ends the scene. 

186 



Scene III. The Faithless Favorite. 

ACT V, SCENE III.— Before a dismantled out- 
house. — A flash of lightning reveals ATHBL- 
WOLD in the doorway, clad in his rich silks and 
velvets. — The rain, falling in torrents, beats on 
his head unheeded. 

ATHELW.* 



[A cur snarls within. 



[Plunges into the darkness. 



♦Gentle reader, weary of soliloquies, the author leaves 
this to thy own imagination. 

187 



The Faithless Favorite. Act V, 

ACT V, SCENE IV.— Before OSBURGA'S cave.— 
KING EDGAR and retinue on the scene: — in the 
background, ROWENA with her child, 03BUR- 
GA, RODA, the OLD SAXON, REDWALD and 
HAKO — the latter a prisoner. 

KING EDGAR (giving a parcel to a nohle) 
This bundle to the castle: — be thou close- 
mouthed, (exit NOBLE) 
Wild spot! — strange stories fill thy solitude, 
But stranger legends still may grow from them: 
A tale of deep and stubborn heartlessness, 
Of furious lust, self-damning perfidy; 
A tale of craft o'er-spinning cunning toils. 
With retribution swift and terrible — 
The fate but darkly hinted yet adumbrant, — 
With these shall legend link a monarch's folly. 
And superstition chronicle th' issue. 

(Pulls out u ring and reading repeats: — 
"Losel, losel,'' etc.) 
Human contrivance fulfills om'nous proph'cies; — 
Methinks this idle rhyme may serve some pur- 
pose. ( to ATT.) 
Fetch hither all ye found upon the brigands. 
[ATTEND, brings a bag to the KING:— he 
opening it, out fall a skull, a dagger and 
some ashes. 

KING EDGAR. 

Hah, murder's tokens! — ^Whose bones are these? 

[To HAKO. 
HAKO (defiantly) 

Put me in Olgar's castle and I'll answer thee. 

ATTEND. Here's more rubbish:— 

188 



Scene V. The Faithless Favorite. 

Wiirt please your highness view these mumming 
shifts? [Opening another bundle. 

KING EDGAR (turning over the articles) 

Seven devil's masks! — some monkish players' 

spoils. 
What use couldst thou make of them, robber? 

ITo HAKO. 
HAKO (with a wild, free air) 
What, may not poor hinds entertain their betters? 
We planned some merriment at the castle, my 

masters, 
And were on the way when ye fell foul of us, — 
Now make what use ye will of them. 

KING EDGAR. 
Humph! — fellow, come hither — walk apart with 
me. 
[The KING converses with HAKO. 8cene ends. 

ACT V, SCENE V.— The same.— KING EDGAR 

solus. 
KING EDGAR (with gestures and motions indi- 
cating inward fury) 

He dies! — all things come handily to my will,— 

He dies! 

O King, thou topp'st all dupes — fond, credulous 
fool!-^ 

Ay, there it stings— contempt o'er-venoms wrongs. 

She's beautiful, — a thousand tongues affirm it; 

He's cropped her bloom-hah, madd'ning thought! 

Had he ten thousand lives ten thousand deaths 

Were incomplete revenge: — he hath enjoyed her. 

I'd cut his gorge myself with right good relish, 

189 



The Faithless Favorite. Act V, 

But that would trumpet forth my pitiful case, 
Fix on my name malignant satire's gibes, 
Make me the butt and fling of after ages: — 
Oh! cuckold and wittol soon were hon'rable 

names — 
No old man wedded to an am'rous girl 
Should be mocked more were Edgar's story pub- 
lished. 
It shall not be! — I'll work my will i' the dark. 

Enter TWO ATTENDANTS with KENRIC, 
struggling. 

FIRST ATTEND. 
A prize! A prize! 

SEC. ATTEND. 
A banished man! — ^We claim the King's reward. 

KING EDGAR. 

Kenric! — high-mettled thane, what dost thou 
here? 

We meet in a strange place: — thy life's the for- 
feit. 

KEN. 
My liege, to look upon her face once more 
I held it cheap to risk the life thou claim'st. 
Alas! I thought not here to meet my King. 

KING EDGAR. 

Thou mean'st Elfrida — thane, I remember! 

Redwald is near too; — 'twas he brought me 
hither: 

An accident hath somewhat calmed his mood. 

Here were made known to me some human na- 
tures 

190 



Scene VI. The Faithless Favoeite. 

Hateful to look upon, {to ATT.) Unhand him, 

sirrahs! 
Away! (exeunt ATT.) My good Kenric, I pity 

thee, — 
Hark'ee, if thou dost serve me I may pardon. 

[Exeunt, the KING talking earnestly. 



ACT V, SCENE VI.— OLGAR'S castle.— An ante- 
chamber leading into the banquet-hall.— Yoices 
and the sound of musicians tuning their instru- 
ments heard from %vithin. Servants laden with 
great burdens of drink and viands cross and re- 
cross continually.— Guests l)eginning to arrive,— 
visil}le in the corridor.— Finally when the room 
is empty 
Enter ATHELWOLD. 

ATHELW. {wearily) 
Where's Off a? — the castle's dead without him. 
No hint, no clue, no forebode! 
Gone, vanished like a cloud of smoke at mid- 
night. 
He's left me to my fate, unknown his own. 
Three days ago I scarce could take ten paces 
Within, without, ere I encountered him. 
Great God! 

How like our lives to shadows on a screen, 
That dance and gyrate on a summer's day,— 
Cast by a swarm of buzzing, saucy flies, 
Too frisk and wanton in the beam of noon: — 
Idly we watch, and wonder at their motions, 
But when some fitful gust obscures the sun, 
Alas! — what happens? 

191 



The Faithless Favobite. Act V, 

We wink, perhaps, or flip an ear, and then 
We gaze again — ah me! — the gnats are gone. 
The scene is blank. — Such shadow-play's our life. 
Enter a SERVANT. 

SERV. (giving a 'bundle) 

My lord, take this: — 
More of Offa will come presently. {Exit. 

ATHELW. 

Dog! so abrupt? — Here slave, come back! — who 
gave't? 

He slams the door — he's gone! — They wax un- 
ruly. 

What's in thy belly, sack? 

[Shakes open the bundle: — out drop OFFA'S 
cassock, crucifix and other belongings. He 
picks them up and holds them out in horror 
— a note flutters to his feet. He reads: 

Thelwy, flee! — Beware of the feast — 
they mean thee no good — the King will be 
there. For Heaven's sake, flee! 
How can she know? — More mystery lurks in that. 
But I'll not cudgel my wits to fathom it, — ^ 
No time for riddles now! — I know the hand: 
She's truth itself that writ these lines — Rowena! 
And dost thou stoop to save me? — O sweet angel! 

(kissing the paper passionately) 
O'er- whelming goodness of a woman's heart! — 
Hah— the foil— 

Enter ELrFRIDA in royal magnificence, PAGES 
attending. 
ELF. 
Come, my love, in! — impatiently they await us. 

192 



Scene VI. The Faithless Favorite. 

ATHELW. 

Oh, do they?— 

How cheerfully she invites me to my death! 

ELF. 
What rubbish dost thou mutter ?~The guests are 
assembled. 

ATHELW. 
The guests? — ^Hah — do thou name me the chief 

of them: — 
Where sits death? 

[Running over and peering into the banquet 
room. 
ELF. 
Death! 

ATHELW. 
At the right hand o' the host?— Most excellent! 
'Tis e'en as it should be— the feast's in his honor. 

ELF. 

In death's honor! 

ATHELW. 
Where sits lies? 

ELF. 
Lies? 

ATHELW. 
And treason, perjury, lech'ry, adult'ry? 
They're at all banquets where rich and great 

gather, 
Ranking Duke Lickspit. 

ELF. 
Nay, take thy place and thou wilt know, perhaps! 
iSweeps into the banquet hall. 

193 



The Faithless Favorite. Act Y, 

ATHELW. 

Oh, truculent! — "Take thy place and thou wilt 

know" — 
I do, I will! — Still, King, I wear a dagger! 

{Exit after her. 



ACT V, SCENE VII AND LAST.— The banquet- 
hall. — ELFRIDA advancing to her seat amid the 
applause of the guests, followed immediately hy 
ATHELWOLD, — The feast is spread in a great 
Gothic chaml)er, illuminated hy numerous can- 
delabra, tut dirtily; the walls are hung with tap- 
estry of a somter hue, little relieved by festoons 
of flowers wreathed over trophies of war and 
the chase. — Music playing; — on a small stage a 
little remote jugglers and mountebanks perform- 
ing. — Servants flitting to and fro among the 
mixed company. — The huzs of merry voices and 
music subside as OLGAR, seated at the head of 
the board beside the COUNTESS, rises and 
waves his hand. 

OLGAR (he hath tippled somewhat already) 
Welcome, my noble guests! — ^Welcome, kind 

friends! 
Zounds! I could weep — this is the parting-feast — 
But there's a gen'rous joy in hospitality 
Forbids the tear, e'en though we lose our daugh- 
ter: 
The bridegroom bears his booty home to-night. 
Ah, rogue! — to steal my child, my lovely girl! — 
What arts didst thou employ? — We hang a thief, 
But love commits house-breaking and marauding 

194 



Scene VII, The Faithless Favorite. 

Without e'en reprimand: — 'twas youth's first 

offense, 
Heired from the jocund hours of being's dawn, — 
'Twill be youth's last, though spring and moon- 
beams fail. 
Alack! — what man is guiltless? Sires have 

caused 
Such partings in their time, — I know't, my 

friends! 
And it is vain to cry out vengeance on him 
When, luckless, I must plead to culprit judges; — 
Nor will we trust the case to bachelors' envy, 
All emulous of the crime, but pusillan'mous. 
Heyday! God speed ye, couple! 
Let stock-fish continence hug its withered sides. 
And dream of agues! — youth and warm blood 

needs comp'ny 
When't goes to bed: — my blessing on't's pro- 
ceedings! 
None heed blush 

For that which makes the Creator's plans endur- 
ing. 
Hark ye! — I'll pose ye, wise-heads: — 
There is a common wish in bridegrooms' hearts, 
And some brides share't — not all — fy! I'll not 

teirt— 
But, yes! I will — when eve draws nigh, my 

hearers. 
On the eventful day, 

If any elf, kind sprite or great magician 
Could grant his wish, what would the bride- 
groom ask? 



195 



The Faithless Favoeite, Act y, 

Now bachelors, blush! — what would the bride- 
groom ask? 

Widows, ye know't — what would the bridegroom 
ask? 

The first day, mark! — what would the bride- 
groom ask? 

(Lord Athelwold told it me a week ago, 

But, so long married, now perhaps denies it) 

What would the bridegroom ask? — An arctic 
night, 

Zounds! 

With morning six months off and slow a-dawn- 
ing — 

Ha, ha, ha! — that's what the bridegroom asks. 

We drink the King's health, gentles! 

[Cup-'bearers ply their offices. 

ATHLW. 
The host that borrows our throats doth buy our 

ears. 
And pours what he lists in both, — this custom 

grants — 
Make a wry face who durst! — But the jest's 

happy: — 
Lord Olgar puts a riddle prettily. 
And yet, I'll warrant, an his lordship knew 
What scarce his dreams trench on, a certain 

bridegroom 
Whom he well likes, should have his heartiest 

wish 
For more than six months' slumber. — Ho, ho, ho! 
Upon my soul, my merry compotators, 
I love my — father-in-law! — and toast his health 

196 



Scene VII. The Faithless Favobite. 

With right good will. Oh, excellent, excellent! 
May his jokes live long too! {Gup-hearers . 

Enter a PAGE. 
PAGE. 
Lord Olgar, some players wait thy will below: — 
They'll entertain the company, with thy leave. 
OLGAR. 
Let them come on then when the feast's more to- 
ward, (exit PAGE) 
Music, strike up!— And some young cavalier sing. 
[Lively music. — Cup-bearers. 

DRINKING SONG. 

Drain the bowl! Fill again! Gome, maid at my 

side, 
Touch the lip with thine own, — ho! wassail the 

bride. 
We will drink to her eyes while they sparkle like 

thine. 
And we'll quit — when they set in the fumes of 

the wine! 
Gome, sweetheart, once more! — this kiss is for 

me, — 
Fm as good as the cup ! — nay, maiden, be free. 
Lone hearts sigh o'er the rose with the myrtle 

entwined. 
But a bird whispers hope when another's grows 

kind. 
Drain the bowl! Fill again! Gome, maid at my 

side, 
Touch the lip with thine own, — ho! wassail the 

bride. 

197 



The Faithless Favorite. Act V, 

CHORUS OF YOUNG THANES. 

Lone hearts sighy etc. 
SEMI-CHORUS OF OLD THANES. 

Drain the 'bowl! Fill again! Will we never get 

drunTcf 
Ah! prod me that rogue in oblivion there sunk! 
What, traitor! so soon? — Thou affronVst our good 

cheer, 
And Shalt drink as a penance ten mugs of small 

beer. 

[The cup-bearers crowd round an old thane, 
pretending him to be the offender — he pro- 
testing, all laughing. In the midst of this 
merriment enter one clad in a monk's habit, 
with a deviVs face: — this figure marches 
directly up to ATHBLWOLD and lays on 
the table before him an object covered with 
a black cloth. 
A GUEST. 
Peace, noisy thanes, peace! See, the play opens. 

OLGAR (disapprovingly) 
Too soon! 

THE MASK (to ATHELW.) 

Behold, my lord! 
I bring the good -friend for whom thy bowels 

yearn: — 
Welcome Offa to the feast he made for thee. 
[Pulls the pall away, revealing a death's head* 

ATHELW. (clutching the MASK) 

Dread shape! — what art thou? 
Man or black fiend from Hell, I charge thee an- 
swer! 

19S 



Scene VII. The Faithless PavoriteJ. 

[The MASK shakes him off and exit, laughing 
sardonically. 

OLGAR. 

What, thane, so wild? — Pooh, 'tis only mumm'ry! 
What, thane, what, I say! 

[Restraining ATHELW., who starts after the 
MASK. 

ATHELW. 

No more oft, then! — 'Tis uncanny foolery. 
(shaking) 

Ho! bring me wine. 
OLGAR. 

A play so daunt thy spirits, noble Athelwold? 

Let them go on. — What ho! cup-bearers, more 
wine! 

Humph! — what inscription's here? (picks up the 
skull and reads) "I was Offa!" 
ELF. 

Horrible, horrible! Alas! what tends this to? 
OLGAR. 

Nay, it takes on a serious aspect, — oh, 

'Tis writ in red, too! — His own blood, mayhap. 

"I WAS Offa!" 

ALFRED. 

'Tis Offa's head, my lord! 

I know it by the side fangs. 
ELF. 

And L 
OLGAR. 

Truly, I fear it is. — 

Fire seems to have partly consumed it. 

199 



The Faithless Favorite. Act V, 

ATHELW. 

Give it me, Lord Olgar — damnation! — no? — 

What, zounds! — hah, — heavens and earth! 

[Secures the head. 
OLGAR. 

The others come on now, look! — ^Ho, ho, ho! 

Watch the play, my lord. — Marry, the rascals! 

'Tis clever make-believe. 

Enter a group of DEVILS.* 

ATHELW. 

It wrecks my nerves. — Do thou ask why they 

come, 
What ghastly theme portray — I like it not. 

(aside) 
Can it be the King's contriving? 

[He lays down the head. 
OLGAR. 

Marry, they took a start out of me, too. 

What are ye, devil-maskers? [To the players. 

FIRST DEVIL. 

The devils of Lodbrog's ring, if ye will — fiends 
come to fulfill a prophecy. Or ye may know us 
as the horned seven that love Athelwold, the 
bridegroom. 



*The latter part of the last scene of the last act, where 
the devils — originally seven — enter, became unwittingly in 
the first draught an imitation of the interrogation of the 
Seven Deadly Sins by Faustus, in Marlow's play of that 
name. This tragedy the author had not seen for years, and 
before the coincidence dawned on him Olgar had already 
be-dialogued all seven devils ; — ^the text, however, was im- 
mediately cut down into the form in which it now ap- 
pears in The Faithless Favorite, — further than this the 
conscience of the author did not urge him to go. The 
item is given for what it is worth, — as a proof merely 
that the human mind is a fiddle on which new performers 
will occasionally scrape some of the notes of an old tune. 

200 



Scene VII. The Faithless Favorite. 

[The DEVILS dance about ATHBLWOLD'S 
chair. 

OLGAR. 
Lodbrog's ring? — Again that old heirloom! 
Whence got ye the idle tale of Lodbrog's ring? * 
Well I recall that prophecy: — (repeats ''Losel, 

losel,'' etc.) 
Elfrid, that ring thou gav'st unhappy Redwald. 

ELF. 

I gave it him in jest to prove traditions, — 
Pooh! 

OLGAR. 

In youth we flout tradition, saw and precept. 
But, growing old, industriously add to them. 

(the DEVILS stop dancing) 
Now for th' infernal roll-call: — hark! — attention! 
What wast thou in front, born devil or earth-son? 

FIRST DEVIL. 
Earth-son I, of the type: — a handsome, young 
gallant, concupiscential, intemperate, given 
night and day to wh dom and adultery — be- 
traying, dishonoring, debauching, mocking all 
virtue. But at last I stole the King's mutton 
and was hung for it. My lines are done; — I'll 
kiss the bride now, by your leave, and begone 
to some kind maid's bed. 



*King Regnar Lodbrog, the warrior-poet of the Danes, 
so cruelly put to death by the Northumbrians, is the sub- 
ject of many legends and superstitious stories. We have 
already noted the "Raven," the victory-ushering banner 
vested with magical powers presumably by reason of having 
been made by his daughters. Thence is it that the pro- 
phetic ring of this play is whimsically associated with his 
name ; — it has, of course, no basis in history. 

201 



The Faithless Pavobite. Act Y, 

OLGAR. 

That thou shalt not, filth — stand back, pestilence! 
And what wast thou, the second? 
SEC. DEVIL. 
A priest — but I'll not speak a word more without 

wine: — I have not lately been to communion. 

Do thou read this aloud, my lord; my breath's 

stinted. 

[Tahes a paper out of the skulVs mouth and 
hands it to OLGAR. 
OLGAR (reads) 
He confesses: "three murders — Ina and the two 

peasants.^' This I, Hako, saw. 
He confesses: "putting up Athelwold to steal the 

King's dride-elect, the Lady Elfrida, thinking 

to command her fortune." 
He confesses: "putting Rowena, Hako's sister 

and Athelwold's wedded wife, in a mad-house, 

SANE." 

He confesses: "twenty more unspeakable vih 
lainies not pertinent, under promise that it 
will save his life." 

(signed) Off a the priest. 
Then he died. (signed) Hako the outlaw. 

ATHELW. (aside) 

Now may he be the King! (aloud) 

Excellent devil! — thou giv'st the cue — die thou! 

Thou know'st too much to live. 

{Kills the SECOND DEVIL.— Aii outcry. 
FIRST DEVIL. 

A vow, a vow! Thou mad'st a vow, my soul! 
[Stabs ATHELWOLD— ai the signal the other 
MASKS fall on him with equal fury. 

202 



Scene VII. The Faithless Favorite. 

OLGAR. 

Help, ho, without! Ho, murder, murder! 

[Uproar and tumult. The guests close in on 
the intruders, and OLGAR'S retainers runr 
ning in at his cry, some of them rush out 
and escape: — those that remain are soon 
finished. 
A NOBLE (unmasking a T)Ody) 
Look, my lord, look! — this devil's Redwald. 

ANOTHER (ditto) 

This Kenric. 
OLGAR. 

What! — ^they our enemies? 
They have their deserts then — cover them. Alas! 
Vengeance plans bloody deeds— O fell conspiracy! 
Enter KING EDGAR disguised, leading in 
ROWENA with her child. 
ROW. (a moment speechless, then shrieks) 
Too late, too late! O King, he's dead, he's dead! 

(rushing to ATHELWOLD, etc., etc.) 
See, see, he's dead! O bloody, fatal issue! 
Was this thy promise, brother fell as death? 

(starts up loith a poniard in her hand) 
False King! or thine? (shaking it at him) Alas! 

for human hopes 
And human plans! — babe, my babe, my babe! 

(falls on her knees) 
There's no deceit in this! (stahs her child) No! — 
none — none — none! [Kills herself. 

OLGAR. 
'Tis mad Meg. — Alack! mad Meg no more: 
Death cures that too. I am somewhat dazed — 

203 



The Faithless Favorite. Act Y, 

The prophecy nears fulfillment: — six lie dead. 
And yon's the skull — 

KING EDGAR. 

An agency above our will impels us 

To acts perverse, to consummate our fate. 

Oh! cover them all up and hear me. 

OLGAR. 

Who art thou, fellow with her? Masked foes 

abound — 
Ho! seize him. [Several start for the KING. 

KING EDGAR (unmasking) 

I am the King! (they fall hack) 

Go, revelers, fetch ye pall and funeral robes. 
And turn your jocund notes to dirge and plaint, 
Mourning her death whose form yet quivers 

yonder: 
Alas, her story is most pitiful! (turns to 

OLGAR) 
Unmannerly thane, we came to right some • 

wrongs. 
But death prevents in part. — She that bleeds 

there 
Was wedded to the false and perjured villain 
Erstwhile our fav'rite — e'en faithless Athelwold. 
Unhappy damsel! 

Her mad precipitance balks justice's ends. 
The devilish spider's dead that spun the web 
Whose mesh caught bigger flies, not less unwary. 
Oh! — thou Shalt wonder, thane, another time — 
Narrative's out of place where death holds revel: 
Suffice the King asserts, nor strong proofs lack- 
ing, 

204 



Scene VII. ' The Faithless Favorite. 

All that thou read'st is true. 
OLGAR. 

O King, his wife? — Alas! what's then my child? 
KING EDGAR. 

Thou touch'st the quick, (devouring BLFRIDA) 

O! she's as beautiful as an orient morning — 

Report, which rates her high, falls short th' 
orig'nal. 

Hark thou, thane! 

The traitor-villain wrought a multiple wrong, 

Thou know'st but part: — Oh! at his sovereign's 
mandate 

He came to thee — to make thy child my Queen — 

Not for himself he came but for his King. 

What is she now? — Alas! [He sighs. 

BLP, (with spirit) 

Why, good my liege, under your gracious favor, 

A Saxon maid! — I'll swear't upon the book. 
OLGAR. 

Saxon chastity and maidenly reluctance, 

My lord — 
KING EDGAR. 

She is my Queen, then — now, that prophecy! 

It needs but this. — Oh, I believe ye! (repeats 
\[Loseh" etc.) 

'Tis most curiously fulfilled — ^how, balks conjec- 
ture. 

Here's a ring with a legend, my lord — (to OL.) 
know'st it? 
OLGAR. What, thou hast it? 

An heirloom fabled to come from Lodbrog's 
finger. 

Three months ago, in girlish sportiveness, 

205 



The Faithless Favorite. Act V, 

Bifrlda gave it to a teazing thane, 
Misdoubting fate and malign influences, 
And thus it comes again — 
KING EDGAR. 

Excellent thane, we parley over-long, 
Making a tragic theme a comedy. 
A few words more and then good night: 
The traitor wore my signet on his finger 
To vouch his mission — ah! 'tis there yet. 

[The KING stoops and pulls a ring off ATHEL- 
WOLD'S finger. 
OLGAR. 

Oh, he stirs! 
KING EDGAR. 
Nay, doth he? — Excellent! — Ho! dog, hear'st 

thou? 
The bride is mine, villain — see! I claim her. 
[Em'bracing her, the KING puts his ring on 
ELFRIDA'S finger. 
ATHELW. 
Thou — ^^art — very — welcome. — O Rowena! 

[Dragging himself towards ROWENA'S body 
with this wild cry on his lips, ATHELWOLD 
falls over and expires. 
AN ATTEND, (after a pause) 

Here's one yet alive, my lord — 
Though at the last gasp. 
KING EDGAR (stooping) 

'Tis the outlaw — now, sirrah! what of Offa? 
Thou didst promise to reveal his fate — how died 
he? 
HAKO (turning) 
Ha, ha, ha! [Dies. — Here the tragedy ends. 

206 



Epilogue. The Faithless Favorite 

EPILOGUE. 



Enter the TWO OFFICERS. 

THE LONG ONE. 
The water being cold — 

THE SHORT ONE. 

Desist, villain. O Lord! thou hast been three 
acts and twenty-odd scenes telling thy imperti- 
nent story, and art not done bathing the widow 
yet. 

T. L. O. 

Ha, ha, ha! Has the audience fared better? 
Look! — they prick up their ears, seeing me: — 
lewdness by innuendo makes even chaste 
minds prurient. Ladies and Gentlemen! — 

[The other stops his mouth. 

Enter an ACTOR in deshabille, with the mask 
and costume of OFFA, trailing. 

ACTOR (sings) 

Fol, de rol, dol! — ^Why, ho there! — what the 
deuce — the play's done. — Oh, ten thousand par- 
dons! 

[Catching sight of the audience he would re- 
tire, hut the others hold him. 

T. L. O. 

Ah! my story shall be the epilogue. 

T. S. 0. 

Lord! [Buns off. 

207 



The Faithless Favoeite. Epilogue. 

ACTOR. 

Epilogue? That belongs to the Countess of Dev- 
onshire, our excellent mother-in-law-supposed- 
to-be and model for women. Poor Countess! 
— she has not a word in the whole play. 

Enter the COUNTESS with THE SHORT ONE 
by the ears. 

COUNTESS. 

Such is the malice of men! What do these worth- 
less fellows here? Usurp my epilogue, too? No 
more, then — we'll have no epilogue. View the 
play as ye see fit, my hearers, — (courtesying) 
and hiss as ye have ability to judge. God have 
mercy on us!— I know there are excellent heads 
among ye — ^sober, earnest men who go gravely 
about a fornication. Ah! — I hear them. — "Why 
were those rascals put on at all!" True, why? 
— Talkative clowns! — what parts had they? — ■ 
None. "Detain the audience, too, that never 
entertained them!" Egregious fault! — But, ah! 
it helps verisimilitude: — out on the great stage, 
in ail walks of life, are many supercargoes, 
who, doing nothing, cumber the scenes — and 
keep on talking after the PLAY is over. 

[Exeunt omnes. 



208 



Post-face. The Faithless Favorite. 

POST-FACE : 

or, 
A B01.US FOR Digestion. 



I. 

Reader, hast thou a ruling passion? In shame 
and secrecy hast thou fostered it many years; un- 
rewarded, hast thou yet labored for it; made miser- 
able by it, hast thou yet loved it— thy being, nook 
and cranny, filled with devotion akin to ecstacy? 
Disappointed, hast thou seen, as it were, the sun 
blotted from thy firmament?— Baffled, hast thou 
lived unconquered; anguished in spirit, hast thou 
returned yet again wittingly to disappointment? 
Hast thou done these things not knowing thou wast 
strong in the true faith, but reproaching thy own 
weakness? Hast thou done these things inevitably 
as the water tumbling from the great height — 
knowing not, determining not its own course? 
Hast thou done them like Socrates, deeming divin- 
ity within thee — the stirrings of a great purpose 
agitating the passionate soul? 

Hast thou been a stranger in thine own land, 
alien in thine own city, solitary in the midst of the 
concourse — a thing apart, of another time, another 
place? Gloomy, diffident and unhappy from thy 
intellectual dawn, yet in another's eyes but proud, 
illiberal or uncouth — ^hath at times the great wear- 
iness stolen over thee? 

209 



The Faithless Favorite. Post-face. 

Then may'st thou, perhaps, understand the au- 
thor; then may'st thou, perhaps, read the book. 
But if, knowing none of these things, thou art one 
living shallowly in the over-insistent and extuber- 
ant now; if thou only fillest thy nostrils with the 
sweet, delusive scent of the nosegay of life — pluck- 
ing away the petals of thy years contentedly obliv- 
ious of the meaning of all — ^then get thee again to 
thy romance and read not these pages. Reader — 
but stop! Perhaps I discourse only to a vision — 
turn we to the reality, poor as it may be. 

II. 

Why art thou, book? How and why didst thou 
come out of the womb of nothing, taking form from 
what has not form, substance from what has not 
substance, pulse, passion and motion from what 
has not pulse, passion or motion? Why didst thou 
not become a novel? — Art willing to meet with 
neglect from levity, misconception from ignorance, 
detraction from malignity? Dost thou think, per- 
haps, to escape those things autochthonous to the 
cipher — the unsexed woman's mind, the magazine 
literator and the couranto smatter-wit? And if 
thou dost not, ol^ending this, the triumvirate of 
the modern intellectual world by thy robustness, 
how canst thou hope to escape being pilloried? 
Will not thy fate be utterly forlorn and pitiful? 

But, ah, somewhere — 0! — somewhere amongst 
the unoracular majority; somewhere amongst the 
innumerable obscure — feeling still is feeling — and 
not sentiment; passion still passion — and not ero- 
ticism; thought Btill thought — and not dictum; 

210 



Post-face. The Faithless Favorite. 

ignorance still ignorance — and not prose fiction. 
Literatus or enlightened proletarian, wherever 
thou art, before the tribunal of thy fair mind I 
plead and make my charges. 

The novel, the magazine and the leveling incu- 
bus — club, guild, society, association, congress, call 
it what ye please — ^these are the prime sources of 
our homunculism in literature, art and philosophy; 
the magazine, as now conducted, being the chief 
abomination — e'en the age's handy midwife for all 
ditch-begotten issue. Hath a man a glimmering of 
an idea? — Let him seek it in vain, tumbling down 
five thousand words in his desperate struggles for 
light; and, having failed to find it, take his galli- 
matia and send it to a magazine — where it belongs 
— and it will be welcomed as ''available," ripe and 
timely — provided : 

The perpetrator is rich, 

" " hunts bears, 

holds or held office, 

" " ov/ns a yacht, 

" " belongs to clubs, 

" " is an actor, 

" " buys, or has friends that buy, ad- 

vertising space, 

" " 's wife divorced him, 

" " 's daughter married an European 

leper, 

" " 's v/ife invited the editor's wife, 

" " knows dialect better than English, 

" " is not really guilty of thinking, 

" " is not really capable of writing, 

etc., etc. 

211 



The Faithless Favorite. Post-face. 

In short, anything, everything prevails in that 
quarter except poor, negligible, old-fashioned merit. 
Merit must come well recommended, like a foot- 
man, if it presumes to hope for even an impatient, 
perfunctory hearing; must sit without, like Samuel 
Johnson, suffering rebuff and contumely while 
potsherd greatness entertains lackey or prostitute. 
With women, mutatis mutandis, as with men: — but 
in general, the accident of femality in this gentle, 
gynecocratic age is not less auspicious than was 
once primogeniture under the royal purple. 

Should the bathologist, favorably circumstanced 
as above indicated, desire to nuncupate immediately 
he can deliver his flatulence with eclat before some 
society or congress for the perpetuation of medioc- 
rity — the place where asses bray and dominate 
while merit blushes in the background. 

This much en passant — leap we now back within 
our own hedge — let us limit our diffident remarks 
to literature. 

As the literaure of a land so, too, must its art be 
— art, that subsidiary birth whose votaries dwell 
not within the inner temple; that handmaiden who, 
lovely though she be, appeals not to the full con- 
clave of mind, understanding being forever slighted 
and irreconcilable. 

Respecting philosophy, silence is pertinent: — in 
the true sense of great-hearted wisdom it exists not 
at all save in memory. 

The novel is the incestuous monster springing 
from the loins of Ignorance cohabiting with Van- 
ity: — incestuous obviously, since none will deny 
that the twain are within prohibited degrees 

212 



Post-face. The Faithless Favorite. 

of consanguinity. — Born in the dark ages, its re- 
dundance covers the earth: — novelists are the lice 
of literature and, like all vermin, multiply prodig- 
iously. Vanity is an harlot that goes to bed with 
many strange humors: — outsides change or are 
decked up differently, as caprice or fickleness dic- 
tate, the leprous body remains leprous forever — the 
grotesqueness of the romance hath passed, the in- 
sufferably nauseous monotony and barrenness of 
the puling love intrigue remains. 

Language, quoth Talleyrand, was given to con- 
ceal thought — nay, demur I, it was given to escape 
thinking: — ^cannot an average novelist write forty 
pages consecutively without once lapsing into 
thought? Multiplicity of works conjoined with 
meagerness of wit, imagination, knowledge, under- 
standing — these are the distinguishing characteris- 
tics of an hodiernal author: — honorable word, canst 
thou really be synonymous with novelist? He has 
the merit of fecundity? — Ay! — so the scrofulous 
mother is oft the most fertile of women. He 
writes vehemently and abominably under the in- 
fluence of the furor scribendi, never because there 
is matter in his mind which must be delivered, 
like the jocund boy gone to full term in the rejoic- 
ing bride's matrix — ^the true origin of good books. 
Alas! — it is only with the novelist like the wight 
with dysentery: — both go oft to stool yet void noth- 
ing but slime. We will not forgive him, then, for 
his inveteracy: — the more hardened the criminal 
the more inexorably let him be judged. 

Another characteristic of the species is covetous- 
ness, insatiability: — long toying with the mother, 

213 



The Faithless Favorite. Post-pace. 

the pseudo-biograpliist must now also debauch the 
daughter. We have already given the pedigree of 
the novel: — ^the modern stage is one of the by- 
bairns of its mother, Mistress Vanity, begotten on 
her by a mask, a wig or a dash of red paint — 'tis 
uncertain which. 

Miserable and barren stage! — They that turn 
novels into plays for thee are impecunious rogues 
who, owning but one piece of cloth, must needs 
have both cloak and coat out of it. Cunning novel- 
ists! — Ye are like the husbandman in the famine — 
feeding the offal of one pen to the pigs in the next 
sty. Simple public! — V/ho are the pigs? But we 
leave the cloaca. 

III. 

Book, it is obvious why thou didst not become a 
novel; but, ah, how principles rob us of shekels! 
Were it not for the love of them and thee, my book, 
I would have written, with the assured prospects 
of becoming rich, a far different work: — I would 
have written Pucella Hugboy: — or, The Curious 
History of One Who Had Measles and Was Happily 
Married Ten Years Afterwards — A Novel Jejune 
a la Mode. But magnanimity is its own reward! 

My book, thou art speckled with faults, like a 
great statesman's policy or a lovely complexion 
under a lens. I will name them as I see them: — 
to the extent that self-love permits perspicacity to 
gaze upon its own back. 



214 



Post-face. The Faithless Favobite. 

[Catalogue of Flaws and Objections; ok, 
A Handy Syllabus foe Zoilus.] 

1. — That the thing was written at all. 

2. — Looseness of construction. 

3. — Archaisms. 

4. — Length. 

5. — Imitation. 

6. — Nastiness. 

7. — Ruggedness. 

8. — Impiety and 'blasphemy. 

9. — Turgidness. 
10. — Tautology, hattology, perissology. 
11. — Olla-podridaism. 
12, — It does not conform to the unities. 
13. — It is not as good as Shakespeare's hest. 
IJj. — It is not as sublime as Aeschylus. 
15. — The oft-reiterated ''ha-ha-has T 
16.— Why don't it tell what HAKO did to OFFA? 
lj.—-Why don't it finish the LONG OFFICER'S 

story? 
18.— Why was the wrong OUTLAW hungt 
19. — Wasn't that inscription too long for a ring? 
20. — What does ''loseV meanf 
21. — It should have been burnt after the first scene. 
22. — Was the author ever baptized? 
23.— It is IMPOSSIBLE— iTie COUNTESS must 

have said something. 
2Jf. — All the songs. 
25. — Epilogue's too long. 

26. — The author is wise to use a privileged charao- 
ter as his PROLOGUE — he can give vent 

215 



The Faithless Favorite. Post-face. 

to the scurrility seething within him with- 
out "being held accountable: — who shall 
call the fool to task? 

27. — Larceny. 

28. — It don't rain just because you want to rhyme. 

29. — Why didn't he steal all of Marlowf 

30. — Do gypsies buy grown girls? 

31. — Were there any at all at that time? 

32. — Did KING EDGAR have a palace at London? 

33. — Isn't Heaven something else besides "high"? 

3If. — Was the werewolf enchanted — or just a big 
wolf? 

35. — Are hexameters good form in blank verse? 

36.— Why didn't he use INA'S ghost? 

37. — Why don't he let OLGAR sum up at the end? 

38. — Some things have been said before. 

39. — Sterne suggested that blank scene. 

40. — Will he get as much as INULF — after HAKO 
acted? 

41. — Satire should be plainer. 

42. — Dare he do it again? 

43. — Why didn't he show the KING in Ms palace 
pining to hear from ATHELWOLD? 

44.— Do., raging over ATHELWOLD'S note? 

45. — Why didn't he bring Editha or Elfleda into 
the play? 

46 — God forgive the printer !man never will — nor 
woman. 

-47. — If put on the stage, would it be over in three 
days? 

48.— Did RBDWALD ever hear of Zoroaster? 

49. — Did ROWENA ever hear of Niobe? — Or study 
ontology? 

216 



Post-face. The Faithless Favobite. 

SO.— -Why didn't he make OSBURGA a real witch f 

5i, — -Were the TWO OFFICERS policemen? 

52. — He hud Aesop in mind in that first scene. 

53.— Did RBDWALD really have coat, cloak, shirt 
and breeches? 

54. — Tom Thimhlewit? — Fudge! 

55.— A mod would hardly le afraid of one woman. 

56.— ATHELWOLD comes too opportunely there. 

57. — Was OSBURGA the midwife? 

58. — HAKO'S too pseudo-poetical for a rol)l)er. 

59. — The world may he too small for a woman's 
greed, hut it's too hig for her lap. 

60. — OFFA'S too, TOO bloody. 

61. — "Supernumerary horrors." 

Q2. — What did INA'S son that was "set over the 
serfs" do about it? 

e3.—"A Saxon maid?" Well, hardly— after a 

week. 

64. — Ignorant authors will use mystery to cir- 
cumvent difficulties. 

65. — The Saxons were rude, but never as rude as 
this lot. 

66. — Songs are supposed to possess some harmony. 

61. — ATHELWOLD should have confessed for 
dramatic effect just before entering scene 
last. 

68. — Those cup-bearers are not busy enough. 
69. — Even mysteries and moralities were un- 
known. 
70. — OLGAR'S speech is too rotten even for one 
who "hath tippled somewhat already." A 
post-prandial witticaster of our OiAjn day 

217 



The Faithless Favorite. Post-face. 

could not be nastier at the orgies of a 

party of hankers. 
71. — Is it certain that ROWENA could write — or 

ATHELWOLD read? 
72. — Act V, Scene lY. — ex post facto vaticination. 
73. — Too many elisions. 
74. — ELFRIDA too shallow, and too modernishly 

made. 
75. — Dogs are not inspired. 
76.— Act lY, Scene IF— ROWENA too iamhically 

acatalectic for deep grief. 
77. — Act lY, Scene II — it was ivrong to give the 

MONKS the privilege — why not virago 

nunsf 
78. — It is not certain what is meant "by Lord 

Smallaxltree. 
79. — The heart speech a suggestion. 
80. — It is not certain hut what the COUNTESS 

says is the "best in the play. 
81. — The ha-ha-has are probably the most intelli- 
gible parts of the dialogue. 
82.— Couldn't any one else know "THELWY"— 

ATHELWOLD'S pet name? 
83. — He evidently killed INA to avoid bothering 

OFFA — and himself — with that imbroglio 

in the later scenes. 
84. — The plot's over-loaded everywhere. 
85. — Ossa heaped on Pelion — why didn't he let the 

KING kill ATHELWOLD himself, as his- 
tory saith he did? 
86. — A meeting between HAKO and ROWENA 

prior to Act III would have shown the true 

dramatist. 

218 



Post-face. The Faithless Favoeite. 

87. — Making a letter-hox out of the sJculVs mouth 

comports well with his other tricks. 
88. — Act II, Scene I — it is not certain that this is 

a perfect parahle for anybody. 
89. — "Five acts and thirty-odd scenes'* too many. 
90. — Too much medical lore. 
91. — The author is evidently a disappointed man. 
92. — The author is evidently a spiteful man. 
93. — The author is evidently a misogynist and 

misogamist. 
94. — The author is evidently an envious man. 
95. — "The author!" — Is he an author? 
96. — He knows nothing of drama. 
97. — He knows nothing of poetry. 
98. — He knows nothing of history. 
99. — There is not a good speech in the play save, 

as already remarked, what the COUNTESS 

says IN it. 
100. — Anile decrepitude. 
101. — Couldn't ROWENA leave it in the cradle once 

in a while? 
102. — He might at least have ended happily — by 

stopping at the first scene! 



Heigh-ho! — We will let the critics tell the rest; — 
if indeed this scheme of every man his own critic 
does not put them all out of business. 



END OF THE FAITHLESS FAVORITE. 



219 



SCHEDIASM. 



SCHEDIASM. 



(Detached lines and paragraphs scribbled desulto- 
rily, as the term implies, on loose sheets of 
paper.) 

Man is a captive dwelling in a prison-house hav- 
ing five windows and one door; and this postern, 
alas! opens only when the walls crumble and fall 
to pieces. One comfort have we, — we can touch 
the spring of destruction whenever we list. But, 
as a rule, men will be found well content to look 
out of the little windows the allotted number of 
years, and to put up betimes with the hard fare, — 
seasoned, it may be, with a little grumbling. 



Like her young sister. Art, to hireling swine 

Hath Letters fall'n a prey, once trade divine; 

And in an age which false ideals deface 

To fail's success, and to succeed, disgrace: 

Hence, like Antisthenes, suspect thyself 

If from thy time come friendship, praise or pelf. 



Who feels must love women for their beauty, 
their sprightliness, their self-sacrificing tender- 
heartedness; who thinks, must hate them for their 
paltriness, their affectations, their falsehoods. In 
short, the heart goeth out to women for what na- 
ture hath done for them, the understanding ar- 
raigns them for what they do to themselves. 



Good deeds preach well; — precept without example 
Plays but the nagging cur at the steed's heels. 

223 



SCHEDIASM. 

Value not anything too highly, — why shouldst 
thou he disappointed? Despise not anything too 
utterly, — why must thou be unjust? 



Deep musing doth reveal the lore of God, — 
And thou canst mine more poetry in thy heart 
Than ever moonstruck bard did mar in meter. 



A CERTAIN kind of wind, making its exit, fills the 
air with nastiness; — ^vile men exposed, making 
their exit, fill the air with calumnies. 



He plows a furrow in the street 
Who teacheth lore for life unmeet. 



The world, with its uniform, unrelieved medioc- 
rity running through innumerable inconsequential 
lives, broken only at long intervals by the epiphany 
of a great man, reminds me of the ocean, which 
hides countless millions under a surface giving no 
hint of it, save when a solitary leviathan rises to 
strike the beholder with awe and astonishment. 



Tub politician's like the wh — e, — who fees 
Buys favors: — like? Nay, I disparage 
The wh — e! — She sells her own wares, not the 
state's. 



The symptoms of decay: — a failing memory, a 
cold fancy and a timid heart. 



Who shuns shoes laughs at kibes, — 
Who scorns praise defies gibes. 

224 



SCHEDIASM. 

Stand on the bridge arching the waterway of a 
great city — what canst thou see? The Great Tent 
above; diminutive animal culae flitting about below, 
incessantly active; houses, quays, boats,— the works 
of man everywhere. What thoughts come to thee 
here? This chiefly: — insignificant and impuissant 
as man is in the scale of universal grandeur, God, 
looking down on him from the throne of infinitude, 
must himself marvel greatly at the cleverness and 
diligence of the little earth-domineering puppet. 
Yes! I cannot but believe that he must be benevo- 
lently amused and well pleased with our works, as 
done under natural impulse, despite all that mor- 
alists and hell-dreamers prate of. 



Pursuits ignoble breed ignoble minds, — 

For, howsoe'er opposed, our thoughts still flow 

In the narrow channel of our daily lives. 



Let not him who would play the philosopher rec- 
ognize his own age, but make a composite of all 
ages; let him not recognize his own country, but 
make a composite of all countries — so shall he find 
age and country. 



Shift of need is not thy deed. 



Philosophy is not a science, but all sciences; it 
is not an art, but a,ll arts; it is not a religion, but 
all religions; it is not a cult, but all cults. 



Fancy, the spendthrift of thought, turns the key 
in the lock of existence and opens up all its treas- 

225 



SCHEDIASM. 

ures. Reality is a poortiouse and they that dwell 
in it are paupers; — ^realism in letters and art is 
only jejunity. 



The bow must be stretched full length, 
Or the shaft will not speed; 

And the heart must be in the work, 
Or it cannot succeed. 



Sleep late, — weep late. 



To say that a woman flirts means that she sedu- 
lously catches men on the hook of concupiscence, 
and then gleefully watches 'em dangling on't. 



Fear to rue, — fear to do. 



Vain the plying of the pump when the well is 
dry, — vain the writing without the deep impulse. 



Well begun is half done: — but he fares ill in the 
race who lags at the base. 



'Tis an excellent thing to dig deep as the soil 
permits, — and excellent to stir a man to his depths. 



Mechanical mind of a material age, 

That naught conceives save what pertains to 

matter, 
Know this: — the fabric of the world 
Was reared on dreams, chimeras and delusions — 
Mere spider-film! 

226 



SCHEDIASM. 

Fix thy thoughts on lofty themes, — so shalt thou 
escape the pitfalls of pettiness which everywhere 
abound in this tinsel world. Compare each thing 
with something greater: — this house is large — ay, 
but the city is larger — this city is large — ay, but 
the world is larger; this world is large, — ay, but 
the stars are larger. Great things give the measur- 
ing-rod for little things. 



Unproductive means destructive. 



Lead the fool's life, — you will not lack the fool's 
thoughts. 



All is fuel to a great fire: — ^genius cannot be 
quenched, — a strong man's deep purpose not long 
obstructed. 



Hopes in reason blow in season. 



What is truth but the unmasked face of things; 
understanding, but the recognition of truth; the 
love of truth, but the love of understanding? The 
first step towards wisdom, then, is truth: — without 
this there can be no wisdom, and he who forsakes 
truth puts a veil over nature's features, and seeth 
nevermore. 



Viewed from the standpoint of a thousand years, 
The noblest work of human hands is temp'rary. 
Like nest or rabbit-hole, — serves ends as paltry — 
And what's a thousand years t' eternity? 

227 



SCHEDIASM. 

A PBETTY woman is a creature who, abroad or at 
home, goes about with a great bag of vanity in 
which she deposits compliments, ogles, lover's 
sighs and other pleasant memories: — and as the 
bag is full or empty that life is happy or discon- 
tented. 



The ankle's but the prelude to the tale. 

And some maids learn, who, t' entice the male, 

Lift i' the crowded street the gauzy skirt. 

Viewing askance imaginary dirt: — 

Pond girl! — he'll come — perchance to thy mishap. 

Since oft in cities am'rous youths have cl--p. 



When thou art big with thought forget not that 
Midwife Brevity will make a short labor on't. 



Beauty is a kind of bribe, making us unfair to 
those that have it not. 



Fob presumption, affliction; for vanity, solitude — 
these are the remedies. 



Thou canst say to most rich men: — thy house I 
may envy, yes! — but not the head thou livest in. 



Ability depends on habits: — a good tool may be 
spoiled with ill using, and a rich field with ill 
sowing may become barren. 

All is salt that runs into the sea: — eschew the 
world, O youth! 

228 



SCHEDIASM. 

Stick thy hand in a chimney — it cannot come 
out white: — walk with evil men — thou canst not 
long be blameless. 



For a nightingale, the lonely spray; for the 
cricket, a quiet hearth — and solitude for the poet. 



A FROWARD maid is fast a jade. 



He who reads many books with little reflection 
hearkens to a Babel of various-counseling voices, 
and in the end, though his fancy be fitfully stimu- 
lated, yet shall his judgment suffer only confusion 
as a reward for his assiduity. Still, variety of 
books is the spice of reading, and that mind inevi- 
tably grows heavy and unhealthy whose thoughts 
brood ever on the low boughs of fact, disdaining to 
soar upward into the clear sunlight of fancy. 
The matter-of-fact writer with his tardigradous 
thoughts, though he may instruct, can never enter- 
tain, — as one who always wears boots cuts but a 
sorry figure at a dance — and piquancy and excur- 
siveness, the agreeable features of a book, are not 
less necessary to the receptive mind than learning 
and profundity. Good sauces aid digestion, but he 
only shows his willingness to benefit his heir who 
sups on them: — thus the reader starves his under- 
standing who devours only works of imagination. 
Wisdom dictates a mixed diet, — a little light and 
a little heavy reading, judiciously selected accord- 
ing to the humor. The capacity must govern, the 
indulgence, not forgetting that what surfeits you 
may famish your neighbor. 

229 



SCHEDIASM. 

If many the glass bad wine will pass. 



Let a man regard the opinions of others and he 
will be like popcorn spluttering in a red-hot toaster, 
— hither, thither, no-whither and back again. For- 
ever lost is that soul to tranquillity. 



The play takes your mind abroad while your 
legs depend idly under a chair; it is indeed a supe- 
rior species of travel, unfolding to our view, if not 
natural scenery, at least the best, bravest and 
comeliest of all ages, all climes, without expense or 
inconvenience. This implies, of course, capacity in 
the actors, a good drama and correct costumes and 
stage scenery. 



Modesty is excellent, but the base self-diffidence 
which often passes for it is only cowardice, only 
self-repudiation. The finger that lit the sun put 
certain powers in me; — I am no more responsible 
for their origin or activity than the sun is for its 
light: — consequently, when I state and show by act 
and deed that such and such powers exist in me, I 
do not brag — I glorify Grod. 



As age advances Fancy folds her weary pinions, 
and thought, bat-like, flitting near the earth, con- 
fines its excursions to the commonplace. But even 
here, if we see but deeply enough, exists romance 
galore and novelty; for the grim facts of the world 
— its works — each and every one of them was once, 
mayhap, a dream or chimera; each and every one 
of them is a monument to some dead imagination 

230 



SCHEDIASM. 

— of imagination, the pathfinder in all human 
progress. 



We are not to be censured for attempting great 
things, but rather commended: — a worm, if it so, 
elects, may crawl some distance up the highest 
mountain. 



Catch plague, spread plague: — thou ow'st it not 
less to others than to thyself to escape contamina- 
tion. 



Woman— let me see, what is woman, to put it 
epigrammatically? She is the nib of the pen which 
has written the world, but, like all points, some- 
times squeaks abominably. She is the wick in the 
lamp of life, but, egad! all wicks occasionally need 
trimming. She is the inspiration of the noblest in 
the realm of imagination, the vilest in physical 
life; — the abacus on which the wise man counts 
off the follies of humanity in the kindergarten of 
an imbecile world. Caprice leads her, vanity rides 
her, destruction walks in her train; — but in her 
heart alone abides the true love; and the chosen 
fondling she sometimes wrecks will she more often 
succor, though it be to her own desolation. 



Where speech is barren silence may be good 
compost. 



That excellent Institution of civilization. Mar- 
riage, is simply an orderly covenant with Venus, 
designed to bring an individual to the same altar 

231 



SCHEDIASM. 

each time he makes his hebdomadal or bis-hebdom- 
adal sacrifices to this powerful goddess; thus avert- 
ing confusion, quarrels and bickerings, not to speak 
of those minor infelicities which Rabelais had in 
mind, when, kneeling down before the statue of a 
certain king, he thanked God for the licentiousness 
of his troops, — or rather for the filthy lucre accru- 
ing therefrom unto ye goodman, the physician. 
But, as the world reeks with adultery and married 
men maintain the majority of brothels — counting 
those with one inmate — the value of the nuptial 
knot is, in our day, somewhat dubitable. 



Men are responsible for woman's pride 
And insolence, for they bow down and sue. 
And constantly, in most unmanly fashion. 
Surfeit her greedy vanity with flatt'ries, — 
Though they might fare well enough, being straight- 
forward. 



True praise is the good word of thy master. 



A BLEAT is a bray in a ram's mouth: — an old fool 
cozened by women, blabbing his troubles, finds 
many mockers. 



'Tis woman's age, — presumption marks her prog- 
ress: — 
She, in the eve of art, some things essaying 
Which men did well for ages, vaunts herself 
Not equal, but superior; and new entered. 
Still screeching out of tune, would lead life's 
chorus. 

232 



SCHEDIASM. 

The philosopher is a poet whose deeds are writ 
in meter, not his words. 



Rhyme and reason are two deer and flee contra- 
riwise: — then chase one or catch none. 



Ceitics are still like dogs, — all raise their legs 
where one has left his nastiness. 



The cultured reader converses with his books,- 
the ignorant listens, rapt and open-mouthed. 



One object of the drama is to hold up the mirror 
of greatness to our own little lives, and shame our 
meanness: — ^then let low characters be sparingly- 
used. 

Praise is a destroyer, vanity diggeth her own 
grave. He thinks little v/ho is self-satisfied, he 
less who wars with the inevitable. 



My soul said to the flame. Give me thy power; 
my soul said to the bird's wings. Give me thy 
.sv7iftness. But they answered, "Fool! thou canst 
have woman's love, — v/hat wouldst thou with us?" 



Civility means contributing your mite to the 
sum of general peace and comfort. 



Fools trip along the street of life unnoticed and 
unnoting; moving in oblivion, they fall into the 
ditch. 

233 



SCHEDIASM. 

Reading is only assisted thought: — if thou dost 
lean too much, remember, thou mayst soon be un- 
able to walk alone. 



Interest blurs reason's spectacles; — thoughts 
change as hearts incline. 



LoNG-sPLiNTED arms wax useless: — so do minds 
O'er-wrapped with learning's bands. 



Live in a low hut — you will learn to stoop; con- 
sort with little minds — you will adopt their ways. 



Brevity keeps abreast of thought, — prolixity is 
soon distanced. 

Not to fame let the monument be reared, for it 
needs it not, and hath, besides, its reward; but let 
it be reared to commemorate genius blasted in 
youth, merit pining in obscurity without inspita- 
tion or encouragement, virtue long suffering in 
secret without murmur or plaint. Alas! these die 
every day without record or eulogy. 



What flowers early decays early. 



Borrowing a thing is not as good as owning it, — 
reading is not as good as thinking. 



Inspiration begins but will consummates. 



The soul rides a lazy and insensible beast, and 
only the spur and bridle keep it out of the mire; — 
sleep not! 

234 



SCHEDIASM. 

The poet sits in the confessional of the heart; 
and true poetry is only feeling sublimed into 
thoughts which, out of their own richness and 
sweetness, come decked in the raiment of music. 



In dissection we must come to the bones, if we 
go far enough; in philosophy, to a dreary sense of 
desolation and nothingness, if we go far enough. 



Kill the bawd, — bury the brothel. 



The pleasures be poisons all, though sugar- 
coated, — good drugs which cure in drops but kill in 
drams. 



Why is it that Christians attach so much impor- 
tance to death-bed repentance, and pious, contrite 
utterances at the last moment, repudiating all of 
life and belief gone before? Sickness, suffering and 
fear obfuscate the best understanding, and it is not 
then, surely, that we see clearly, as the preachers 
would have us believe, but rather during our in- 
trepid hours of vigorous life, when we have leisure 
and tranquillity. As a testimony to the truth such 
evidence is utterly fallacious and worthless. 



When should old age be respected? — When it so 
lives as to deserve it; — and then it need not exact, 
— it is unhesitatingly accorded that respect and 
reverence which a long life and an ample store of 
human experiences entitle it to. 

But ah! to how many old people can you truth- 
fully say, — You have had a long opportunity to 

235 



SCHEDIASM. 

learn — you have not learned; you have had a long 
opportunity to become good — you are not good; 
you have had a long opportunity to garner wisdom 
— you are not wise! Ask them, what then do you 
claim for the long opportunity of your life? — Many 
cannot answer. 

Doubly censurable he or she who, living to grow 
old, is not good, wise, charitable, patient or dis- 
creet! 



Pageants are forms of public ostentation de- 
signed to impress the giddy multitude, — paltry 
feat! — or, on the other hand, the spontaneous ebul- 
lition of colossal vanity and vainglory, combined 
necessarily with adequate means to parade it. 
Roman triumphs prepared the way for tyranny, 
fostering the ungodly lust for power and regal 
splendor, its satiation passing the bounds of pri- 
vate extravagance; resulting finally in a subverr 
sion of the liberties of the poor fools who, applaud- 
ing in sympathetic patriotism successful generals 
returning home laden with spoils and captives, 
soon themselves fell victims to a kind of anthro- 
pophagous campaign. For he certainly devours 
his own kind who deprives them of their liberties, 
without which men cease to be human; indeed, an 
age reft of the institutions of freedom at best 
serves only as excrement to the shallow periphery 
on which we walk, fertilizing it for better genera- 
tions. 

In a republic all military pageants are danger- 
ous, and half the civic parades and processions 
mischievous in their ultimate effects. Soldiers, like 

236 



SCHEDIASM. 

harlots and newspapers, are necessary evils, but 
should be kept decorously in the background: — he 
who shouts for armies beckons to the eager specter 
of despotism. Civic pageants teem with blind enthu- 
siasm, the object of the celebration being, as a gen- 
eral thing, either ridiculous or not adequately un- 
derstood; and, temporarily oblivious of the ego in 
a burst of public sympathy, — a happy effect — the 
worthy citizen too often ends by completely sub- 
merging his identity in a dramshop. Thus extrav- 
agance opens the door to drunkenness, while licen- 
tiousness stalks without. 



Half of our intellectual luminaries — soi disant! 
— remind me of a night-lamp, — a little thing giving 
just light enough to see that you are in the dark. 



O Beauty! thy bright eye in anger flashing, — 
Rolling tempestuous 'neath black brows — expresses 
More than the thunderbolts of words fast-crashing. 
Which volley from thy lips; proud man confesses 
That v/ar— at least with thee — "is h— 11" indeed. 
And w^isely shuns the storm, as he had need. 
Lord, Lord! I love the sight when woman rages, — 
Provided 'tis not me the shrew engages — 
Anger convulses, passion's waves engulf her, — 
Man, vulgar man! exhales too soon — in sulphur. 



Find an husbandman, if you can, who stores 
away his grain ere he winnows it: — yet will a man 
accept opinions read in books without thinking. 



Youth, regard each temptation as an antagonist 

237 



SCHEOIA.SM. 

with whom thou art to grapple, as in the games, 
to fling or be flung. 



High of birth, — a life of dearth. 



Doubt thine ability and thou hast none. 



WoMAis" and fool, dove and dove, chough and 
chough — these things flock. 



The fool has the good things of the earth — and 
shall he meddle with the great? Hunt him from 
the high places! — mercy to fools is perfidy to 
wisdom. 



THE END. 



23S 



OIP' 



